Debated Affection
by rubberduckiesrock
Summary: Sybil and Branson battle their way through their feelings for each other and the effects of the war. But will they make it through the drama of the appearance of a dashing Count? New readers can jump in at chapter 8 as it's the 1/2 way mark so to speak.
1. The Lady and The Tramp

**Debated Affection **

Chapter 1 Branson's POV

It was on days like this when I really wished my uniform wasn't so dam thick and heavy. It was the hottest day I could remember for a long time there were a few fluffy white clouds populating the summer sky, annoyingly none of them crossing the path of the sun to grant me a little shade. And here I was running across the Grantham estate, I could feel the sweat building on my forehead, but the news I had to deliver made him keep running.

Being a chauffer it was bizarre to be able to move this fast, feel the warm breeze on my face, without the addition of a steering wheel in my hands.

But it was a good feeling. I tried to recall the last time I had run like this, and immediately wished I hadn't, as the details of that day flooded back.

The cries of the protesters drowning out the announcer; the feeling of panic as I fought my way through the angry crowd to find her, protect her; the drunken gaze of the bald feller who smelt not so different to that of a whisky distillery; the force of his fist as it made contact with my stomach; the fast paced fight and the world grinding to a halt as I watched her fall; the sound of her head impacting on the wooden table; being surprised at her lightness as I carried her to safety; the dark stain on my right sleeve where her head had rested; the anxiety and pain of having to leave her in the Crawley house; the guilt of telling Lady Mary and having to look her in the eyes.

But the most define memory of all was of when I stood in the entrance hall of Downton, awaiting my fate, and hearing her threaten her father that she would run away if he fired me. The warm rush that spread throughout my entire body in that instant, as that was the moment I knew that I loved her.

The two cream tents had gotten closer then I thought in the time my mind had drifted back. I could make out Lady Mary and Mr Crawley apparently in deep discussion by the large oak tree, it didn't look like it was going well. I also spotted Thomas serving two elderly gentlemen, his back to me, holding a silver tray and standing upright and stiff. I couldn't help but chuckle as Thomas turned away from the gentlemen and one leaned closer to the other indicating to his eye and nodded towards the retreating servant, their brows creased in query or disapproval; I couldn't tell which. I had never been to fond of Thomas. I didn't hate him, as he had done nothing to offend me, but I couldn't help feeling a slight hostility towards the pale skinned Footman.

As I approached the mix of servants and nobility, I slowed to a brisk walk, jogging a little when I was sure no one was watching. I doubted that Lord Grantham would be pleased if his chauffer sprinted through his garden party and disturbed his guests.

My eyes flickered from face to face of servant and guest alike, lingering on some for a second. Others, who looked similar to the one I was searching for, a second longer. Unnecessary as I knew that when I saw her, I would know immediately.

Then, on the far side of the gathering, on the edge of the furthest cream tent, in the company of Lady Edith and two other ladies, was Lady Sybil. Conveniently placed in my line of vision. She had not seen me as she was in deep conversation with Lady Edith. I resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to run to her side, and instead, took the opportunity to watch her freely. As I watched, I noticed how she did little things that I had seen her do many times before. Such as, when she twisted the ribbon of her dress through her delicate fingers, to anybody else it would be just as they saw, but I knew that she did this when she was trying to suppress a otherwise unacceptable comment on women's rights. I also knew that if the talk continued she would reach across and play with the material on her right sleeve. Much to my amusement, moments later her left arm reached across her stomach and searched for a loose bit of thread on her sleeve. Chuckling to myself I began to make my way over to her, only to be stopped by a low voice full to the brim with authority.

"Do you find something about a chauffer, loitering around his Lordships garden party, when he is unneeded, amusing, Mr Branson?" the smile that had occupied my face moments before gave way to my serious professional expression, as I turned to face Mr Carson. He was stood a few feet away, his eyebrow raised in an accusing manner.

"Not at all Mr Carson. I was merely searching for Lady Sybil, but I can't seem to find her." I did feel rather bad about lying to Mr Carson, well I wasn't lying completely I convinced myself, so it is in a way acceptable. Mr Carson's eyebrow rose a little more.

"Are you hard of sight Mr Branson?"

"Not that I am aware of Mr Carson." I let my professional look broken by a slightly confused frown.

"Well, an able sighted person would be able to see that Lady Sybil is, quit clearly, over by that tent." he indicated in the direction I was facing previously. "I do hope you can see roads better than people. In any case why are you in need of Lady Sybil in the middle of a garden party?"

"A message came through on the telephone, and I thought it best to notify Lady Sybil." I answered confidently.

"Very well, but be quick about it"

"Yes, Mr Carson."

I began to walk briskly towards Lady Sybil, looking over my shoulder every so often, and when I was sure Carson was no longer watching, I broke into a run, eager to get to her side.

She was still talking to the Lady on her right and did not see me approaching. With each step I took closer to Lady Sybil, the smile on my face became harder to contain. As I approached her I slowed to a walk.

Before I knew it I was right behind her.

I tapped her on the arm, aware that one of her Lady friends seemed a little taken back by this informal interaction.

"I've got news Milady" I announced.

She turned to face me. It was unnecessary, and I knew it, but still I leaned forward. Close enough to feel the warmth emanating from her. Before whispering, "Gwen got the job Milady."

Her reaction was instant. She gasped with delight as she turned to face me, for an instant, before turning back to her sister and friends. In that instant our eyes had met, and I could see the joy swimming in them. A joy I had brought to her.

She composed herself and muttered her apologies to her company and turned again to face me, still for only an instant, before leaving at a respectable speed. I followed vaguely aware of the confused looks from Lady Edith as she watched the two of us scurry away.

It did not take us long to find Gwen. She was emerging from the main tent, holding a silver tray, and saw us approaching. Before we had come to a stop Lady Sybil burst out with the news.

"Mr Bromwich just rung. You've done it Gwen, you've got the job."

Gwen's reaction was just like Milady's, after many gasps she turned to a passing maid.

"Oh take it, take it." she managed to say before handing the tray to the bewildered looking girl.

Now tray-less, Gwen let out a small squeal of delight before launching into both mine and Lady Sybil's arms.

Next to Milady, Gwen was one of my favourite people at this place. I admired her ambition, courage and will power to push herself to greater things, with some encouragement. It was for this that I also envied her slightly.

Suddenly I realised that Lady Sybil's arm was overlapping my hand, I had a good mind to bring my own hand back slightly and place it on hers, but thought better of it. I was already pushing the social boundaries enough.

Our rejoicing was soon interrupted by a rather unhappy sounding Mrs Hughes.

"Something to celebrate?"

We broke out of hold quickly. I was still very aware of the distance between Lady Sybil and myself, the back of our hands were touching, which made my heart race.

I heard Gwen begin to tell Mrs Hughes the good news, before throwing caution to the wind and taking Lady Sybil's hand in mine, my fingers locking into place between hers. For a short time, although it felt like a decade, she did not respond. But before I had time to regret my decision I felt her gloved fingers curl around mine.

All that I wanted now was for her to look at me for more than a second, as she had not done so today.

"I'm very happy for you Gwen," the sound of Mrs Hughes voice brought my mind back to the conversation in front of me. "and we'll celebrate after we've finished today's work." she said sternly.

"Of course Mrs Hughes." murmured Gwen and she walked away. As she did I gazed down at Lady Sybil's hand enclosed in mine and I noticed that she did the same, a smile made it's way to the surface once again and I was struck with an idea.

"I don't suppose that-" I began.

"Lady Sybil-"

In a way I was glad that Mrs Hughes had chosen that moment to interrupt, as when I had started to talk, Lady Sybil had looked up from our entwined hands and directly into my eyes. In that moment I had forgotten what I was going to say, distracted by the fact that it was the first time she had looked at me properly all day.

I couldn't help but notice the disappointment in her eyes as she reluctantly turned away to look at Mrs Hughes when she addressed her.

"Her Ladyship was asking after you."

I felt annoyed at Mrs Hughes' small smile as she said this, and couldn't help but think that was she said wasn't true.

I glanced at Lady Sybil as she said nothing and turned away from her. My heart skipped a beat when she looked at me again as she left. The small smile she wore didn't hide the disappointment which still lingered in her eyes. I got the feeling that she also thought that this request was lacking in truth, but I gave a small grin in reply as she left my side.

Giving in to the urge, I looked over my shoulder to watch her walk away, before letting out a sigh, and starting off in the opposite direction.

"Be careful ma lad" Mrs Hughes said, before I had taken more then two steps away. "Or you'll end up with no job and a broken heart."

"What do you mean?" I replied with a put on grin.

I could see that she was trying to be kind through her strict tone, and the truth that she spoke. But I didn't want to think about it at the moment, let alone have someone explain what I already knew very well.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but apparently thought better of it. Instead she simply sighed and walked away, leaving me stood there.

I knew that it was impossible, I had always known. I'm a chauffer not a high standing Lord, as she is the daughter of Lord Grantham. We could never be.

I looked down at my hand. It was strange, but I could still feel her hand on mine, it was if it had never left.

"Mr Branson?"

I turned around to once again find Mr Carson standing behind me, this time he was holding a silver plate, with what looked like a telegram, on it.

"I trust you have delivered your message to Lady Sybil?"

"Yes Mr Carson, I was just on my way back to the house in fact."

Carson gave me an approving nod and went on with his work. I began to walk back to the house.

I had made it half way back when a call from the party caught my attention.

"Please would you stop, please."

It was the voice of his Lordship, I stopped in mid stride. I could easily pick him out as he had run out of the tent and started to wave his hat around. Something didn't seem right.

"My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, can I ask for silence." he called.

I noticed that he had a piece of paper in his hand. A telegram?

"Because I very much regret to announce," he continued, everyone had now given him there undivided attention. "That we are at war with Germany."

A rustle of murmurs swept across the crowd. I could feel my throat tighten. We had all known that war was coming at some point, but even so it was still a shock to hear those words be announced on what was a very nice summers afternoon.

I remained still watching the reactions of the crowd. Daisy had gone over to William and grabbed his arm, like she was worried that he would be dragged away to war there and then. Thomas hurried over to Doctor Clarkson, probably to confirm his place in the medical corps. Her Ladyship had gotten out of her chair for the first time that day and made her way over to his Lordship, who place his arm around her and gently kissed the top of her head.

But there was one person I searched for the most.

Lady Sybil was standing next to Lady Mary, her eyes wide. Lady Mary had, like her Father had to her Mother, placed and arm around her youngest sister. I dearly wished that it could have been my arm wrapped around her. I noticed that her sisters hold didn't prevent Lady Sybil from looking frantically around the crowd, her head twisting around to get a better look behind her.

I wanted to go back and be by her side again. But if Carson saw me there again I doubt he would be best pleased with me, and I was on dangerous ground as it was already thanks to the Rippon incident.

I made to continue back to the house, when just as I turned I _felt _someone watching me. Looking back at the crowd the only face I saw looking this way was the only one I wanted to see.

Lady Sybil's concerned expression was the clearest out of the whole lot. Her gaze shot through me making me want to go down there even more then earlier.

I took one step back down. But then her face was gone. His Lordship had taken each on of his daughters under an arm and was steering them into the tent, closely followed by her Ladyship and Lady Edith.

I sighed and turned back towards the house.

This is what would always happen. His Lordship will direct his daughters lives to give them the best ones possible. Unfortunately this meant marring them into high class families, families with the most financial and social security.

He would not let one marry a penniless chauffer with no social standing or influence.

No matter how much that particular chauffer loved Sybil Crawley.

~oOo~

**Okay, first Downton fic, I just love these two. Easily my favourite couple on this fab show. So ye, I would love it if you could tell me what you think and also point out if I have made any stupid mistakes. **

**Thank you**

**xX Big HugsXx **


	2. Good Luck Miss Dawson

**Chapter 2**

August 15th 1914

Branson's POV

It's nearly been two weeks since war was declared, to be honest nothing has changed much. Most of the young men in the village signed up in the first week, and those who signed up first left a few days ago for the training camp. No one from Downton has left yet, but Lynch, the groomer's son, Peter, left with two others from the village yesterday.

The papers have been surprisingly quiet. The only way we know what is going on is through Lord Grantham's old army friends who keep him updated. So far the biggest new that came through was on the 13th, the Russians second army have been surrounded by the Germans in a spot called Tannenburg in Austria. Of course the papers hadn't reported on this. Lord Grantham says that once British troops get out there the newspapers will be allowed to print it, he says it's all about keeping up moral. I can't help noting the look of disgust when he says this, like he knows exactly why they don't tell us just what is going on, before enough have signed up. Mr Bates wont answer any questions either, even from Anna, and has the same expression as his Lordship. I often wonder what they're not telling us.

I hadn't subscribed yet. I told people it was because I was unsure if I could sign up for the British Army. But truthfully there was another reason.

My stomach was telling me that it was close to lunch time, but I couldn't wait. I went to the kitchen with the hope of weaselling something from Mrs Patmore, no sooner had I entered, I was turning around to leave. The kitchen was empty apart from William and Daisy. They were sat on the piano stool, Daisy on William's knee, her head buried in his chest with his arms wrapped around her, one hand stroking her hair. Her hands grasped the front of his jacket, making her knuckles white. She was crying. In a second glance as I left, I noticed that his eyes sparkled with tears as well. I saw Anna coming down the stairs, I hurried over.

"I think it would be better if you go the other way Anna." I muttered

"Why?" she muttered back, her eyebrow pulled together.

"William and Daisy. They, erm, look like they need some time alone." her eyebrows un-creased, she looked at the floor before looking back at me.

"You haven't heard?" I shook my head, "William signed up this morning. Daisy's bin a mess ever since he told her." when I didn't answer she turned down the opposite corridor.

This is exactly what had put me off subscribing. Saying goodbye to Sybil, even the thought was painful. How could I say goodbye knowing that I may never see her again. But if I stay I would be able to keep seeing her everyday, but face the torment of people looking down on me as a coward, never been able to know the real reason I didn't go. Either way I had to make a decision.

And I had to make it soon.

August 16th 1914 

Sybil's POV

Gwen was leaving today. I had asked Branson to take her down to Rippon, with me. I was both sad and happy to see her leave. Sad, because I would loose one of my closest friends, next to Branson of course. But then I was happy for her because I knew how much she wanted this job, even if she never said it.

I came down to the entrance hall to find Gwen surrounded by well wishers coming to see her off. She was smiling, but I could see tears glistening in her eyes. As I stood and watched by the stairs, Thomas came in and announced that Branson was ready with the car. I couldn't help myself. Craning over the crowd I could only see the top of the car roof. Frustrated, I tried leaning around them, but I could still only see the back of the car, no Branson. "Lady Sybil?." I looked back towards the crowd to see Gwen beaming at me. "Are you ready Milady?" she called. I nodded and made my way towards her. Gwen had a final sweep of hugs and calls of 'Good Luck' before meeting me by the door.

As soon as we entered the yard, Branson left the drivers seat, as he always did, and came to open the door, one hand behind his back the other extended out to help us up. I let Gwen get in first before taking Branson's hand myself. I gave him a smile and he gently squeezed my hand in return. On the drive up Gwen and I talked about her new job and promised to write to each other as much as possible. Occasionally I glanced at Branson's reflection in the front mirror, when we caught each others eye, his eyes would crinkle up in a smile which I would return gladly. Sometimes I think Gwen noticed, as when I looked back at her she would turn up the corner of her mouth. When I replied with a innocent confused look, an eyebrow would raise so far it was in danger of disappearing in to her hairline.

When we arrived in Rippon, Branson assured us that he knew where the building Mr Bromwich had told us to go, was. But after half and hour of driving around I suggested we stop and ask for directions. It didn't take us long after that. The building turned out to be on the outskirts of the town, in a area that we rarely visited. I made to follow her inside but before I entered I heard: "Lady Sybil," I turned around, Branson was leaning out of the car. "I have some business I have to take care of would you mind if I borrow the car for a small while?" I laughed at his formalness, we only spoke like this when we had company.

"Of course Branson aren't you going to say goodbye to Gwen?"

"I'll wait until I get back Milady, besides it'll give you and Gwen some time alone."

I gave a small nod and called "Be careful. Don't get caught in any political debates." I saw him laugh in the mirror.

"You might want to take your own advise, Milady." he called as he drove passed.

I laughed and followed Gwen inside. The place was nice enough, quite large, light and spacious.

"Looks like a nice place, don't you think so?" I said. No answer. "Gwen?" I noticed that she wasn't by my side. Turning around I saw she was still by the door, the tears back in her eyes. "Oh Gwen," I cried, running over and taking her hands. "Please don't or you'll make me start."

"S-Sorry, Milady. I'm-I'm being silly." she sobbed. "What you must think…"

"Nonsense." I pulled her over to a seat and sat her down, kneeing in front of her, still clutching her hands. "It's just the nerves. Once you get settled and show everyone how brilliant you are. You'll feel-you'll feel right at home." it was starting to get to me, I could feel the tears building up and the lump had formed in my throat.

"Thank you Milady, I'm going to miss you." that did it. Both eyes overflowed and tears ran down each of our cheeks. At that moment there was a sound of a door opening behind me.

"Miss Dawson?" called a voice.

Gwen stood up, wiping the tears from her face. "Yes."

I got to my feet and saw a woman stood at the door at the other end of the room.

"If your ready, would you like to come through and I will show you around." Gwen looked at me with slightly panicked eyes. I turned to the lady,

"Sorry, but we are just waiting for our other friend, he wont be long I assure you." I explained with my best over exuberant smile. The lady nodded.

"Just come through when your done." Gwen nodded frantically. She looked more nervous then a anti-feminist surrounded by suffragettes. I gave her a reassuring rub on the back.

"He wont be long." I assured her. Sure enough a few minutes later Branson came jogging through the door.

"Sorry, took a bit longer then I thought." he said with an apologetic grin.

"I'll wait outside." I said. Before I could take a step towards the door Gwen stood up and put her arms around me and murmured into my ear:

"Thank you Milady, for everything." I was off again, I didn't even try to contain my tears this time. We stepped out of the hug and once again her face was tear-stricken. We both laughed, I held out my hand, she took it.

"Good Luck Miss Dawson. I'm sure you will do exceedingly well." I said in my best serious face, which she copied. But smiles began to creep back in and soon we where laughing again. It was only when the woman came back out, eyebrows raised, did we stop.

"I'm sorry, we wont be long" said Gwen. She returned to her room. I took that as my queue to leave. Giving Gwen another swift hug, I made my way out. When I got to the door I turned and glanced back.

Gwen had just wrapped her arms around Branson's neck, his around her shoulders. A strange feeling appeared in my stomach, like someone had just made me jump. Surprisingly, I felt slightly angry and so quickly ran out of the door and into the car, to get away. What was that? They were just saying goodbye, I had seen many people doing the same this morning, so why was it different now? I found myself thinking about the day me and Branson told Gwen she got the job, how she had hugged us both and how he linked his fingers in mine, how it had made my heart race when I locked my fingers around his. Wait, why was I thinking of that? I didn't have time to dwell on the answer as Branson had just come through the door and was making his way to the car, flashing me a smile, which I half-heartedly returned, making him frown in confusion.

"Are you okay, Milady?" he asked as he clambered into the drivers seat.

"I've been better, Branson." I sighed in reply as he started the engine. I could feel him looking at me through the mirror as he set off.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Gwen will be fine once she settles in." his Irish accent was full of reassurance, I couldn't help but feel a little happier just by hearing it.

"I'm sure she will." I said with what I hoped would be a convincing smile. "Did you finish the business you had to see to?" I asked, eager to change the subject. There was a slight pause before he answered.

"Yes." he kept his eyes on the road when he answered, and didn't even turn his head slightly.

"What was it?" I pressed on.

"Oh nothing to important Milady. Just something I thought I'd better do while I'm here." I decided to leave it there, Branson sounded as though he didn't want to talk about it. Although this made me even more curious.

We drove past the post office, the main subscription site in the area. I was surprised to see a number of young men queuing outside, even now. I thought of William and Daisy and what would happen if he didn't come back. I stopped quite quickly. It was just too heartbreaking to think about. I found my gaze unintentionally being drawn to the mirror just as Branson did. A thought struck me.

"I hear that you haven't signed up yet, Branson, is it true?." A long pause filled the gap between his answer.

"Yes, Milady." again he didn't meet my gaze when he answered. My chest felt a bit lighter now. We had made it to the country road, home wasn't far now.

"Good," I murmured, I think he heard me though as his eyes flickered in my direction. "I don't know what I would do if you left." I was talking to myself more then anything, but he was still listening. "Who would I talk to? Nobody understands me like you do." a lump was forming in my throat again, I normally wasn't the crying type, but today I couldn't stop. "What-what would I d-do, Branson, what would I-I do?" tears where rocketing, uncontrollably down my cheeks now, I put my head in my hands, my shoulders shaking of there own accord. "I need you. I need-I need you. Please don't, don't go, plea-" the suddenness of his arms encircling me put a end to my sobbing pleas. I hadn't even noticed the car had stopped. I hadn't noticed that he sat by my side. But it didn't matter, I just melted into him completely. His hand gently rubbing my arm, his chin resting on top of my head. Suddenly I felt so calm, so relaxed. It just fit, to be in his arms, it felt right. My sobbing vanished as quickly as it came.

"Do you feel better?" he murmured. I managed to coax out a small hum in reply. He took his head away and looked at me, "Are you alright to go back?", another hummed response. "Okay then."

It was completely unexpected. I hadn't seen it coming. I didn't have time to react. As soon as he said those two words he pressed his lips against my forehead, longer then was necessary, but I didn't mind at all. And then brushed my tear stricken cheeks with his thumb, while looking directly into my eyes. I became lost in a place I would quite happily remain in forever. But then, giving my arm one last rub, and got up and got back into the drivers seat.

Branson's POV

I clambered into the car again, my heart was racing. I was frustrated and delighted a the same time. How much I wanted to tell her in that moment how much I love her and never want to leave her side. But then she'd let me be that close to her, is it possible that…no of course not.

Even so, since I put my name on that list this afternoon, my time by her side was limited.

But by how much?

~oOo~

**Oooooh hehe. Hope you liked it. **

**Same as the last chapter really: What you thought and any mistakes :)**

**xX Big Hugs Xx**


	3. How Did You Tell Her?

A/N I tried to get Mrs Patmore's and Daisy's accents to come through in this chapter so if I've put a ' by a word is because a letter has been dropped (usually a 'h' or 't') to make them sound more yorkshireish, there not typo's (Let me know if it works ok) :) happy reading x

Chapter 3

August 19th 1914

Sybil's POV

I was on my way to see Branson, it was early morning and I usually didn't make a point about getting up so early, but for the past few days that is what I had been doing. I had made it my personal mission to make sure that Branson stayed out of the army for as long as possible.

I knew that if he did not join then the ridicule that he would be face with will be unimaginable; but I will not let him leave me without doing anything to stop him. I do not think I will be able to live with myself if something happened to him, knowing that I didn't even try to prevent it.

And so I have been accompanying him everywhere. Whenever he took somebody to town, I would make an excuse to go with them, so that I could make sure he didn't slip out and subscribe. When he was at the great house I would keep checking in on him, asking what he had been doing since I last saw him. If I could I would be with him all the time, but I thought that it might cause suspicion.

I was near the kitchen now, Mrs Patmore had become accustom to my early appearances over the past few days, but others were still taken off guard. I entered the kitchen a little earlier then normal, only Mr Bates, Anna, Thomas and Mrs Patmore were here, but no Branson. As soon as I entered they all stood up, I hated it when they did that it made me feel guilty about disturbing their meal.

"Oh I'm sorry. Please, sit back down." I said waving my hand at them.

I started to stare around the kitchen, hoping that he may come in at any moment. I could feel the others at the table watching me. Trying to hide the disappointment from my face I turned to leave.

"'e 'asn't been in yet, Milady." Mrs Patmore had just passed me on her way to the table, whispering in my ear on her way. "'e'll be in 'is cottage, by the outhouses it's the first one you come to." she added on her way back.

"Thank you." I managed to say before she went out of ear shot.

~oOo~

I had just made it to the outhouses when I saw somebody coming out of the first cottage on the right. It was Branson. I hurried over, he looked surprised when he saw me and ran over.

"What are you doing here Mila-" I cut him of with a swift hug. "-dy?" he finished after I released him.

"I came to see you of course. Can't I do that?"

"No, no of course you can, it's just you normally come after breakfast that's all, and I wasn't expecting you." he said as we approached the servants entrance.

"Oh I'm sorry, I should let you get on." I left his side before he had a chance to reply, maybe coming this early wasn't such a good idea, he did have things to do after all.

"Milady!" came a cry from behind me. I turned to see Branson still stood there. "It was nice to see you." he called. I smiled and gave him a mocking curtsy, I heard him laugh as he bowed in return before going through the door.

I was quite pleased with myself so far, as he doesn't appear to notice that I was keeping an eye on him.

Branson's POV 

She was watching me. I could tell, the early morning meetings, sudden reasons to accompany me into town. Not that I minded having her around, but I made me feel guilty about not telling her that her efforts were wasted as I have already signed up. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her.

I entered the kitchen, Anna looked up and gave me a nice smile before getting up and leaving, Mr Bates looked up and gave me a nod before returning his attention to the paper, and Thomas just glanced out of the corner of his eye for a second barely acknowledging my existance, nothing new there then.

There was a scuffle from the store cupboard and Mrs Patmore came clambering out, her arms full with bags and jars. I went over to help.

"Oh, thank you." she sighed as I took some bags from her. "Just put 'em on side, you wouldn't have to do that if Daisy were 'ere, but god forbid she'd be down before seven." I laughed before deciding to defend the poor kitchen maid.

"She has got other things to be doing upstairs; I'm sure she'll be down soon."

"Aye, I'm sure she will. Meanwhile I'm slaving away down 'ere trying to feed you lot and them upstairs."

"A service for which we are very grateful, Mrs Patmore." said Mr Bates from behind his paper, as I took a seat next to him. Mrs Patmore brought me a bowl of porridge, just as William entered with a cheerful "Morning" and sat down opposite me.

"Another one." I heard Mrs Patmore mutter, before bringing William a bowl as well.

"You've got a letter." said Mr Bates turning a page of his newspaper, and indicating to a small pile of envelopes at the end of the table. William put down his spoon and picked up the pile and started sifting through them before finding his. I ate my porridge not paying much attention.

He said nothing for a minute or so. The only sound was that of Mrs Patmore busying with the dishes and the occasional rustle of Mr Bates' newspaper.

"What's the date?" I heard him ask, in nothing more than a whisper.

"The 19th."

"Four days" he muttered, and put the letter on the table and started to play with his food, his cheerfulness gone.

I looked at the letter, noticing that everyone had now turned to watch William. Well apart from Thomas, the slick git continued to stare at his breakfast.

None of us said anything, we all knew what is was but, we didn't acknowledge it. What do you say in this situation? Congratulations? I'm sorry? We just sat and ate and thought.

I figured that my notice would come tomorrow, as I had signed up the day after William. Just the thought made my stomach twist.

We were dragged away from our thoughts by the arrival of Daisy.

Ever since the garden party, Daisy and William had grown close, very close in fact. She had also, much to everyone's amusement, started to ignore Thomas. I had no idea why these things had happened; but there was no denying that is was for the best.

Relationships between the staff were forbidden, but everybody knew about the certain people. Even Thomas and O'Brian aren't wicked enough to rat them out.

However, because we all knew about William and Daisy, it was hard for the happy, albeit breathless, 'Good Morning' she greeted us with, not to make you feel as though you had just been punched in the stomach. As you know that soon her morning wouldn't be that 'good'.

Even Mrs Patmore hadn't snapped at her as she usually would have done and instead went over and helped her with the buckets and brushes she had piled in her tiny arms.

"Oh, thanks Mrs Patmore." she said in her small voice. "There ain't any porridge left is there, I ain't 'ad anythin' to eat this morning."

"Aye there is, just set rest of em buckets over there, nd I'll get ye some."

She hadn't seen the letter on the table or noticed the somber mood that had just cased down amongst the group. Mind you, it was Daisy, no doubt she was blissfully unaware of most comings and goings. On some occasions, such as this one, it was a good thing.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw William whip the letter off the table and stash it in his pocket before she sat down.

"Oh, Mr Bates, Anna was lookin' for ye. She wants to know if 'is Lordship wants one or two sheets on 'is bed, wiv it been warmer nd all." she said as she sat next to William.

"Ah yes, I forgot to tell her." he said putting his paper down. "Thank you Daisy." he added with an over exuberant smile, which she returned.

Just as Mr Bates' footsteps faded, Mrs Patmore scurried over with a considerably large portion of porridge.

"There ye go, love, I'v put plenty of honey on it for ye, just 'ow ye like it."

"Oooh, thanks" she said, her eyes lighting up as if someone had told her that Christmas had come early.

I caught William's eye and both gave a slight grin. Anybody else would have questioned what was going on when Mrs Patmore didn't have a go at us, least of all help us with buckets. But there she sat, digging in to her, honey drenched, porridge with out a care in the world.

William suddenly got up grabbed his letter and went towards the stairs, murmuring "See you lot later" as he went.

I had a thought and followed him. He was half way up the stairs by the time I caught up.

"William!" I called, as loudly as I dared. He stopped and looked around. "Can I ask you something."

"Course, will it take long, I want to catch his Lordship before breakfast?"

"No, I just wanted to ask, how did you tell Daisy that you were leaving?" he looked a little confused.

"I just told her."

"Didn't you find it hard though?" he paused, considering his answer.

"I was reluctant to tell her, because I wasn't sure how she would take it and I didn't want to hurt her. But when she asked me if I had signed up, I couldn't lie to her. My mother, god rest her soul, always told me to be truthful especially with those whom I care about. Besides it's better that she found out from me, rather than somebody else, you understand?" I nodded.

"I don't mean to pry, but, when are you going to tell her when your leaving?"

"Honestly I'm not sure. Tonight I suppose. She seems so happy this morning I can hardly bring myself to ruin her entire day."

"That's true." I agreed.

"Was that all? I need to tell his Lordship when I'm leaving." I nodded again

"Well good luck I hope it goes well, in as many ways that is can really." I said with a half hearted grin.

"Me too." he called back as he disappeared up the stairs.

I sat down on the nearest step. My notice would more then likely come tomorrow and I would have to tell his Lordship. And then he would undoubtedly tell everyone else, including Sybil.

William's voice echoed in my head: _'It's better that's she found out from me, rather than somebody else.' _

I stood up. I would tell her. The next time she asks, I'll tell her the truth.

But still, it didn't really make it feel any easier.

~oOo~

**Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far, you guys really make my day.**

**This is a bit of a bridge chapter from chap 2 to 4 and so I will try and not make you wait too long for the next part.**

**I understand that some of you would be like- Mrs Patmore wouldn't say 'love' or be that nice.- however, in my defence, I do think that she cares for Daisy, such as when she tried to warn her about Thomas saying that he was a 'trouble soul' and the like, and I think that she would try and be nice to her.**

**I hope so anyway.**

**xX Big Hugs Xx**


	4. Somewhere Sunny

Chapter 4

August 20th 1914

Sybil's POV

It was at dinner last night when Papa had announced that he would be leaving for a few weeks, in order to train the new recruits. He had received the letter that morning from his old friend at a near by camp. Apparently the number of applicants had exceeded there expectations, and so they were in need of some more experienced ex-officers to instruct the new ones, and so they had offered a position to him.

I had never got the impression that Papa liked being in the war, then again I never thought he disliked it. In fact he had never talked about the war before. Never the less he seemed quite exited by the prospect of returning to his old position. Mama didn't like it of course, she had put on a forced smile when he told us. I doubt Papa noticed though, as he was to enthralled by explaining the details of the position at the time.

I don't think it was the idea of Papa being near things related to the war that made Mama anxious, but rather the fact that he would be away for weeks. The longest time they have spent apart in there married lives has been a matter of days. I tried to convince her this morning, after breakfast, to persuade him not to go if she felt that strongly against it. But she wouldn't hear any of it.

"If it makes him happy," she had said, "who am I to refuse him of that?"

"You're his wife," I argued, "the mother of his daughters. He should consider you and your feelings in his decisions before he makes them." she laughed, which surprised me.

"You've been reading too many feminist pamphlets, my dear." she said lovingly, but with a touch of a scornful look in her eyes when they met mine. "Your father doesn't need to include me in his decisions, I would support him what ever he chooses if it makes him happy." she had got up to leave, and was nearly at the door before I asked:

"Why?" she turned and gave me a small smile.

"It's like you said before Sybil darling, I am his wife. It's my job to make sure he is happy." and with that she had left the room.

Granny also had a announcement for us this afternoon. Her good friend Countess Adelaide Gray, her daughter and two youngest sons would be arriving in a matter of days; they would be staying with her for a few weeks possibly as the Countess' husband, who was one of Papa's old war contacts, was needed in Hull with "war related issues" as Granny put it.

Along with this news, she had arrived with three huge baskets of black wool and declared that, Mary, Edith and myself were to knit garments for the soldiers. We decided on socks, hats and scarves and took a basket each. I had never been one for knitting, or any kind of embroidery for that matter, and my first attempt at a sock, closely resembled what I imagined a mutilated slug would look like. Eventually Edith took pity on me and educated me in the correct way to cast on, and off and take out the last stitch. All the while muttering:

"You'll have to learn. No self respecting man wants to marry a woman who can't even knit a sock." to which I replied:

"If he only wants to marry me based upon the fact of whether or not I can knit a sock, then I'd rather not marry him at all." at that point a small laugh came from Mary's corner. Edith whipped around to face in Mary's direction.

"Something amusing you?" she snapped coldly.

"Oh no, not at all." Mary said, her hand to her mouth, holding back another burst of laughter. Edith turned back to me.

"You shouldn't think like that Sybil." she said sternly, "Sir Anthony says that he highly values a woman's ability in embroidery, as do many of his friends. It's an important skill to have if you're expecting on ever getting married." Another laugh from the corner. Edith was staring daggers at Mary when she faced her again.

"What is it now Mary?" she hissed at our eldest sister.

"Nothing, just the fact that you think the skill of embroidery so much in a marriage, and yet out of the three of us, I'm the only one to receive a marriage proposal. And, as you both know, my embroidery skills are almost nonexistant. It amuses me that's all." she said all this in the mocking, sarcastic tone, she had taken up recently whenever she talked to Edith. Who didn't take the comment well.

"As we both know, I would have been engaged right now if it wasn't for _you _scaring him away."

"Well it didn't take much." laughed Mary, "He couldn't get away fast enough." Edith looked ready to breath fire and opened her thin lips to snap back. But instead they formed a small sneer, which crept into the corner of her mouth, I knew well enough that when it appeared, nothing good would come of it.

"I suppose you would have become accustom to scaring off men, cousin Matthew couldn't wait to get away." she continued.

I had only just managed to gather up my basket and make my way to the door before Mary retaliated.

"That was not my fault! if Mama hadn't got pregnant then I wouldn't of had to consider the possibility that-" I closed the door and let out a sigh before walking away.

And that was how I came to be in my room for the next one hour, two, three maybe, I couldn't tell the knitting was tedious and time pasted so slowly.

I desperately wanted to see Branson, but he had been extremely busy all day, what with Granny coming and going and Mama journeying into town to pick out multiple unnecessary table cloths and other things that would probably never be used, as she always did when guests were coming.

I sat in a chair nearest to the window, I hadn't bothered to turn on my lights, the moon was out and it bathed my room in a silver blanket. I was so high up, I could barely hear the owl that occupied the large oak in the grounds, or the sounds of the front door being opened. The only way I was able to tell if someone left or entered the house was by the bar of light that flooded the yard when the door opened, it caught my attention every time.

I was attempting to cast on my new line of wool, and had been for at least ten minutes, when a new light caught my attention. Two bars of light crept on to the yard from the side of the house, they kept moving. Eventually they came to a stop directly outside the front door. I gazed at the source and my heart skipped when I saw the unmistakable outline of Branson getting out of the car.

I got up quickly, my knitting needles fell to the floor with a clatter. I started to try and open the window but the latch was stubbornly, refusing to move. After a few more attempts I gave up and instead resorted to hitting the glass, as hard as I dared, with a curled up fist. It was no use, he couldn't hear me, not over that blasted engine.

I rapidly considered my options and concluded that my best option was to run down to him myself, and pray to god Papa or Mama doesn't see me running through the house in a most unladylike fashion. I charged out of my room, the bang of the door echoing down the corridor. I had made it down to flights of stairs and had run into no one so far, I could feel my hair slipping more and more out of place with every step. I came to the end of the third flight and turned the corner only to be greeted by the sight of Papa coming out of a near by room. I tried to slow to a more respectable speed but it was no use, he had seen.

"Sybil?"

"Papa?" I faked a surprised tone through heavy breaths, whilst trying to force my hair into it's once neat arrangement, to no avail. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving my room." he replied walking to meet me, a confused expression on his face.

"Oh yes, of course." I had been in such a rush I had lost track of where I was. I could feel the red flush rising through my face.

"In fact I need to talk to you and your sisters, would you mind going down to the library, I'll be there in just a minute."

I nodded and walked down the rest of the corridor. Frustratingly, none of the windows on this side of the house looked out onto the yard, so I had no way of knowing if Branson was still there.

When I was sure I was out of Papa's sight I started running again, although, not as fast as the last time. I saw through on of the windows the beams of light from the car lights and quickened my step.

I soon made it down to the main hall, Mama was already down, she was stood by the front door, it looked as though she had just seen someone off. Sure enough, looking behind her, I saw cousin Isobel being helped into the car by Branson. I couldn't help it, whenever I saw someone's hand in his I thought, once again, of the time when he took my hand in his, and how it made me feel warmer then the sun did that day.

"Sybil?"

The call of my name dragged me away from the warm, sunny, garden party and brought me back to the cool, dimly lit, entrance hall.

"Sybil darling?" it was Mama calling me from the door of Papa's library. "You were miles away, what were you thinking of?" she said with a smile as I approached her.

"Nothing. I'm just tired and drifted away somewhere." I noticed that I had a huge smile on my face and tried to hide it quickly.

"Where did you go?" she asked as we both entered the library, a smile on her face now.

"Somewhere sunny." I said, in what I hoped would be a nonchalant voice, making my way to the front window to see the car lights disappear.

At that moment we were joined by Mary and Edith. Although I barely noticed them come in.

In my mind, I had gone with the car lights.

With Branson.

All I could vaguely hear was a monotone muffling of their conversation, which I was about to be dragged into by, yet again, the call of my name.

"_Sybil_…_Sybil_…Sybil!" I fought with my neck to pull my head from the window and look at my mother and sisters. By the look of their faces both Mary and Edith had been calling me, Mama however just looked at me, her eyebrow raise and the small smile was back.

"Back in your sunny place, were you?" she asked, Mary and Edith both looked at her with equally confused expressions. Before I had a chance to even open my mouth to defend myself, Mary said:

"What to you mean Mama?"

"Your sisters finding it difficult keeping her mind in one place tonight."

Mary and Edith's faces whipped back to me, there expressions now matched Mama's.

This was never a good thing.

"Thinking of women's rights again are you Sybil?"

"Or, perhaps ways of sneaking to the next rally?"

"Or maybe, a particular gentlemen is the cause of this?" teased Mary.

Edith gasped, her hand jumping to her mouth.

"Are you in love Sybil?"

From the little I had experienced of hunting, their reaction was like that of a party who had just cornered a particularly good catch. They started to edge closer, their eyes hungry for confirmation and details. I could only shake my head at them. Thankfully, Papa had chosen this particular moment to join us.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." he said as he entered the room, walking straight for his desk. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?" he asked when he looked at us properly since he came in.

"Not at all." I quickly replies before the others had a chance. I could of run over, hugged Papa and never let go, for his perfect timing. "What did you want us for?" I asked as I went to my favourite armchair and collapsed in it.

"Well, as you know, I have accepted the position at the training camp. They have also asked Mr Bates, who has also accepted. Therefore, we shall…"

But that was all I heard. Papa's voice had turned to the monotone muffle in my ears. My mind, instead, was focused on what Edith had asked moments before.

Was I in love with Branson?

There was no deigning the fact that he was one of _the_ most precious people in my life. And I had just stormed throughout the house to see him for a tiny amount of time. Followed him everywhere to make sure he doesn't sign up. Which, looking back, all seem quite drastic.

And then, of course, there were the little things: the fact that my heart races when I see him, mixed with the feeling of my chest tightening at the same time. The warm flush that sweeps my body when he looks into my eyes or takes my hand to help me in and out of the car. The twisty feeling in my stomach when he gives my hand a squeeze.

But then there is the feeling that I get when I think of him being far away. Away from me, where I can't hear the softness of his velvet Irish voice; see his eyes crinkle when I catch his glance in the mirror or the smile that he gives me when he sees me, the one I can't help but return.

It's the feeling that a part of my very soul is missing.

And it hurts.

It took a few seconds before I realised my eyes had tears building up in them. Wiping my eyes I attempted to focus my attention on Papa.

"…Also, cousin Isobel would like me to consider, if necessary, letting some local hospitals use Downton as a emergency unit for soldiers. This would only be if, god forbid, the amount of casualties gets to large for the surrounding hospitals. I have no objections to this, but I am worried about you." he looked at each of us in turn. "I have seen my fair share of injuries, and I would not like my girls to be affected by what you may see. Therefore I have made arrangements with cousin Isobel, for you four to be moved to her residence if it should come down to this." he looked around for our response.

Mama, Mary and Edith all nodded while muttering "Of course."

I however didn't feel the same.

"Papa." everyone turned to look at me. "What if we want to do more to help then just knitting socks, scarves and hats? Can't we help out here if we want to?"

"I admire you're will to help Sybil dear, but I would prefer it if you did stay at cousin Isobel's."

"But Papa-" I protested

"No! There's no discussion on this matter. Your going, and that's the end of it." his tone reminded me of the night I had come back from the count.

Determined to fight my corner I made to speak again. Only to be stopped my Mama's hand on my shoulder, shaking her head.

"Fine!" I declared, getting to my feet. "If that is all? Good night." and I strode out of the library.

I went straight to the chair next to the window, when I came to my room. I had calmed down on my way up, and had started to feel guilty for what I had said to Papa. I would have to apologise tomorrow, at breakfast. I understood why he didn't want us around whilst there were significantly injured men around the house. But it frustrated me how he though _all_ of us were incapable of being around it.

I hadn't been sat there long before the light from the car made there reappearance. I sat upright, my hands pressed against the glass, heart beating furiously against my chest. I watched as Branson drove the car to the front of the house. As he got out I saw that he had an envelope in his hand, and questioned what it might be. But that thought was quickly pushed out by a urge to go to him yet again.

I rose from the chair, and grabbed my coat on the way out.

For the second time that night, I hurried through the house, to see the man that, I now knew,

I loved with all my heart.

~oOo~

**Okay I know some of you where expecting her to find out that he had signed up in this chapter so I'm sorry and hope you can forgive me.**

**Also I would like to appologize for the lack of Branson, I will make up for it in the next chapter!**

**Thanks to my reviewers-you keep me happy! ^_^ xX Big Hugs Xx**


	5. Tea Cups and Tears

Chapter 5

August 20th 1914

Branson's POV

I had picked up my notice from the post office, on the way back from dropping of Mrs Crawley. Even though it was a tiny piece of paper, it felt like it weighed a ton.

It doesn't take long to get to my cottage. It's just at the front of the outhouses at the back of the house, you can see it from there easily enough. Inside it has two rooms: the smaller of the two has a bed, complete with a side table and lamp, and a small set of rather battered draws. The larger room is both a kitchen, at the back, and sitting room; the fire place is on the front wall to the left as you enter. The kitchen is a small sink and cooker, I never eat here so it is not used, and a small wooden table with two chairs and a few cabinets next to and above the cooker. The sitting room area is easily where I spend most of the little time I spend here. Made up of a cozy armchair in front of the fire, next to it a small table, on which was a small lamp and some books I had borrowed from his Lordship. In between the armchair and fireplace was a large rug, and up against the back wall was a tall, thin bookcase. It's occupants where considerably more battered then the ones on the table.

When I came in I slid the letter on the top of the books before chucking some more coal on the fire. Then I slumped into the armchair and picked up the letter again. I ran my fingers over the seal, my mind chanting _'open it, open it' _but my hands reluctant to do so. Finally, with a sigh, I closed my eyes and ripped the envelope open. My eyes opened when I felt the letter land in my lap.

Unfolding it I read that I was to be at a training camp by the August 24th. That gave me three days. Three days to spend with my friends, practically my family, as I had none left in Ireland. Three days to be with Sybil as much as possible.

I slumped back in the chair just as there was a knock on the door. I got up and went to answer it thinking that it was probably just Anna coming to tell me dinners ready.

Opening the door I found not Anna, but Sybil. Even with her hair all over the place and her cheeks flushed crimson, she still didn't fail to take my breath away.

It wasn't until she said "Hello" with a raised eyebrow, I realised I had been stood with the door open for about a minute in total shock.

Quickly I stood back and asked her in. I took her coat and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, whilst indicating to the armchair.

"So, what brings you here of all places at this hour?" I asked, as I crossed to the kitchen.

"It's Papa," she called, "We had a…disagreement. I'm sorry if I inconvenienced you."

"Not at all, it could be three thirty in the morning and you would still be more then welcome."

She laughed.

"Thank you, Tom."

I froze in the act of filling up the kettle. I could feel my face reddening.

She knew my name.

I smiled to my self as I put the kettle on the hob.

There was silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. I looked behind me, she was stood by the book case, examining the few books I owned. I suddenly remembered that I had left my notice on the table by her seat. I rushed forward and slid it quietly off and into my pocket.

"What did you disagree about?" I asked when I had made it back to the cooker.

"The usual. The house is to be made into a makeshift hospital if necessary, and I wanted to be of some help, I mean, I'm sure cousin Isobel could teach me the basics in time. And it would be a lot more helpful then knitting." I couldn't help but pick up on the disgusted way she said the last part.

"But?" I encouraged. She sighed before continuing.

"But Papa wont hear any of it. He says we are to be sent to live at cousin Isobel's if it should happen. It's frustrating how he, like all other men, think that women are too _delicate_ and _fragile_ to be able to deal with things like this." she sat back down with a 'huff'. "Anyway, I knew that you would understand how I need to do something more then what I'm expected to do. So, when I saw you come back I came straight down."

The kettle started to whistle.

"So what's stopping you from just asking Mrs Crawley for lessons, and then sneaking back to the house and helping, without his Lordship finding out?" I asked, getting two cups out of the cupboards. There was more silence as I poured the water out.

"But Papa said no. He would be angry if he found out."

I laughed again on my way over with the tea.

"And when has that ever stopped you before?" I asked handing her a cup.

"True," she laughed. I love her laugh. "But you would know all about that now, wouldn't you."

I gave a sheepish grin as I dragged a chair from the table over. I saw that she was looking at the cup and felt a little embarrassed. The cups where old, faded and slightly chipped in places. Nothing like what she is used to.

"I'm sorry about the cups." is said not looking her in the eye.

"They're charming. Where did you get them?" she said, smiling at me.

"They were my mothers. She always said that 'a cuppa tea makes everything better'."

"Well that makes them even more precious then. And she was right, I do feel much better. But I think the person who you drink it with helps too." another dazzling smile came my way. "If you like, I could buy you a new set so that you can keep these ones nice?"

"Oh no Milady, I couldn't-" I began.

"Tom, can we please stop the formalities when it's just us? You are my closest friend after all." I was surprised at how much the word 'friend' stabbed at my stomach. "Sorry, you were saying." she raised the cup to her mouth.

This was the moment, I could feel it. My gut instinct was telling me to go for it. In my pocket the notice letter felt like it weighed a ton again.

"Um…Ye, I couldn't let you buy me another set because it would be a waste of money, considering…con-considering that I wont be needing them soon." I waited for her reaction.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

"Why? What do you mean? Where are you going Tom?" she said very quickly, her voice becoming a bit strained near the end.

How much I wanted to just say that, I wasn't going anywhere and that I was joking. But instead I reached into my pocket, took out my notice and handed it to her. She put her cup down and took it with a shaking hand. I didn't know where to look. If I looked at her, then the look of realisation on her face as she read, would kill me before I even got to the war. But if I looked away I would be missing out on the little time left to be with her properly.

I opted for the 'look at her' option, and wished I hadn't. When she had finished reading she looked up. Her eyes met mine and the sadness in them stabbed me in the heart.

"Three days." she murmured not taking her gaze away. "Three…days" her breathing had become unsteady and slightly jittery. "When did you…um…?" she pointed at the notice.

"The day we took Gwen to her job." I said in barely more then a whisper.

"Oh" was all she said whilst putting her head in her hands, briefly. When she rose back up, tears were swimming in her eyes.

Another stab to my heart.

It was killing me seeing her like this. I wanted to comfort her, like I did in that day in the car, the day we said goodbye to Gwen. I hadn't hesitated then, why was I now?

My body was urging to leap forward and sweep her into my arms. But my mind was screaming the harshness of reality in return. I was a working-class, penniless, chauffer. And she was a high class woman of noble birth. It would be very improper.

A tear had overflowed from one of her eyes and trailed down her cheek, she couldn't stop looking at the notice in her hand, and she made no attempts to wipe it away.

But, hadn't she said minutes earlier that she wanted us to stop with the formalities when we were alone?

In that case, what was stopping me?

Nothing!

I launched my self out of the wooden chair, which toppled to the floor with a _bang! _And closed the gap between us in one stride.

She had been pulled from her trance by the sound of the chair, and looked up to see me standing there. One hand behind my back and the other extended and my upper body and head slightly bowed, as I would to help her in and out of the car.

Waiting for her to take my hand.

I waited what seemed like a life time.

Until I felt her soft, smooth, un-gloved finger tips slide into the gap between my thumb and forefinger.

My heart-rate quickens.

Her fingers slid further on to my hand.

My fingers enclose hers.

It becomes harder for me to breath.

She pulls herself up from the chair, still not looking at my face.

Her head is down staring at the floor. I watched the tears run to the end of her nose.

Keeping hold of the tip of her fingers, I reached down to her right hand and grasps it in the same way. Pulling both hands to the centre and side by side, and raised them towards me. And pressed my lips against her fingers.

With this she looked up, upon looking into my eyes bursts into floods of tears.

I dropped her hands and threw my arms around her neck and shoulders pulling her closer. She started to shake and sobs erupted from her.

I placed one hand on the back of her head and started stroking her hair, placing another kiss on her head. I was surprised when she ran her hands up my back and clutched at the material of my uniform on my shoulder blades. This made me lower my head in to the crook of her neck pulling her further in. Continuing to stroke her hair, as she cried into my chest.

We remained like this for what seemed like a millennium, occasionally I would place a kiss on her head. Her sobs stopped after a short while, but her grip on my uniform stayed the same. I debated on whether or not to tell her that I loved her. But would that be harsh considering I would be gone in a few days. Then again if she didn't, and probably wouldn't, feel the same. Then it was just a few days of awkwardness until I left. Before I came to any kind of conclusion…

"I love you Tom."

I pulled my head away from her to see if she had just said what I thought, and hoped, she had. Feeling me pull away she did too, her arms weaving from the back to the front of my uniform. I was relived to see that she was smiling a little.

"I love you, Tom Branson." the grin turned to a full blown smile, and she placed a hand on my cheek. "I love you with all my heart."

I could move from shock. It must be a dream? I expected to wake up at any moment. But unlike in my dreams, a wave of relief washed through my body. This was real, it was happening.

I placed my hand on hers and leaned towards her so that our foreheads touched, before whispering:

"I love you too."

I moved to kiss her, my heart thumping when she did the same.

Our lips met halfway.

I places my hands on either side of her cheeks.

Her hands moved back to my chest clutching at my uniform, pulling me closer.

Eventually we broke apart, and looked into each others eyes, beaming I felt so happy words couldn't describe. As I brushed away the tear marks on either side of her face with my thumb, the ones on her nose I cleared with a kiss, before kissing her forehead. Then I pulled her into my arms once again.

Considering what just happened I felt calm. Even more so knowing that the woman in my arms feels the same way about me as I about her. I wished that I had done this sooner, so I could spend more time with her like this. But if three days were all I had then I would just have to make the most of it.

Soon I heard a voice outside. Sybil must have too, as she looked up at me, her eyes asking if I had heard it too. We listened closer, I could feel her heart beating. Someone was calling her name. I sighed, and laughed when she did as well.

"I suppose I'd better go." she muttered.

"I suppose." I agreed.

We broke apart and she wandered over to the door and grabbed her coat. She then made to grab the handle but stopped and turned around.

"But I don't want to go." she pleaded.

"I don't want you to either." I admitted.

And she ran back, I met her halfway. Her arms flew around me and her lips crushed against mine.

Another call from the yard. We didn't break apart.

Another call.

And another.

Finally after the forth she pulled away.

"I really have to go."

I nodded but when she made to go again, I grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"You're not helping." she laughed.

"Sorry" I said with another sheepish grin.

"I love you." she said when she got to the door.

"I love you too… Milady." I said with a bow.

"Mr Branson" she replied with a little curtsy, before opening the door, and vanishing.

I collapsed in my chair.

I suspected that this smile wouldn't fade for a long time.

~oOo~

**HE HE no idea how long it took me to write this I was squeeling so much, and I squeel at the littlest things! ^_^**

**I have found a really nice video of Sybil and Branson on you tube-the link is on my profile…quite possibly one of the cutest videos ever created. My love to everyone who reviews, you keep my world sunny. xX Big Hugs Xx**


	6. Casual Love

Chapter 6

August 20th 1914

Sybil's POV

I closed the door behind me. I could have quite happily died on the spot. It was strange how light headed I felt as I moved towards the call of my name. I was sure that the muscles in my jaw would ache in the morning, but I just couldn't stop smiling.

I skipped toward the stables, where the call was coming from. In the distance I could make out the silhouette of a small figure, jittering about frantically. Approaching the stables I saw that it was Daisy. When she saw me coming over, she hurried to my side, her eyes wide and panic-stricken.

"Oh Lady Sybil, there ye are!" she cried. The poor girl looked ready to cry.

"There, there." I sang, placing my arm comforting around her shoulders. "Why are you out here?"

"Most of the staff 'ave been looking for ye, Milady. Anna came to ye room and ye weren't there, so is Lordship asked us to search the 'ouse and the grounds." She seemed to have calmed down in the time it had taken her to explain. We neared the front entrance, the door was open and the light from the hall spilled on to the yard. Upon entering the hall we found Carson waiting. The moment we came through the door he hurried over.

"Lady Sybil, are you unharmed?" I was utterly confused; I can't have been gone that long?

"I'm perfectly fine Carson, thank you." I said with a raised eyebrow.

"Good" he sighed in relief. "His Lordship is waiting in the Drawing room; he said to send you up when we found you." He turned to Daisy. "Well done, Daisy. You may go now." I gave her a small smile, as she walked away towards the kitchens.

Ignoring my protests that he should also retire for the night, Carson accompanied me to the Drawing room.

I had barely taken two steps in to the room, before my mother and sister hurried over.

"Oh Sybil, you're alright." Mama exclaimed as Edith and Mary embraced me in turn. Papa was saying his thanks to Carson.

"As I have said to many people this evening, I am fine Mama." I said as they steered me into a chair.

"Well?" Edith persisted "Where have you been?

Obviously I couldn't tell them the real reason why I had been at Branson's, they would hardly approve. Thankfully, fast thinking has always been one of my best talents, and far more useful then knowing how to knit a sock.

"I was at Branson's cottage." I admitted, there reactions were interesting: Mama. Papa and Edith all looked surprised, whereas Mary looked at me with a scrutinising stare. "I had lost my earring today and it wasn't in my room so I went to see if it was in the yard. And so I decided to ask Branson he had found it in the car." I explained, hurriedly, before they asked too many questions.

It was Papa who spoke first.

"And that's where you have been, looking for an earring, in the dark?"

"Yes"

"For hours?"

"Yes, it _was_ one of my favourites."

He seemed convinced.

"Very well, I just thought after what happened earlier that..." he paused, considering if he wanted to continue. "Well as long as you're okay."

I nodded.

"All that searching has made me very tiered." I declared "If it's alright with you, I would like to get some rest."

"Of course Sybil, darling." Mama said with a smile, which I returned before leaving the room.

On the way, I decided to take a detour to the kitchens. I planned to spend as much time as possible with Branson over the next few days, and I already had a plan in mind for tomorrow. All I needed was a little help.

When I arrived I hadn't expected to find anyone, and was surprised to find both Mrs Patmore and Mrs Hughes. As usual when I entered they both stood up, much to my irritation.

"Lady Sybil?" said Mrs Hughes. "What a pleasant surprise, can we be of assistance?."

"Yes, I'm planning on seeing Gwen tomorrow and I will be leaving early. I just wondered, if it would be possible for you to leave the store cupboard open in the morning? As I would be spending the day with her, and would like to take a small picnic for lunch." I finished with my most persuasive little smile.

It wasn't Mrs Hughes, but Mrs Patmore who replied.

"I could put something together Milady, it would be no trouble."

"Oh no Mrs Patmore, you'll have breakfast on your hands. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you."

"Nonsense." she argued with a wave of her hand. "It would be no trouble at all. Daisy can 'elp with breakfast."

"Thank you, you are very kind." I replied and turned to leave.

"If you would Milady, can you give my best to Gwen when you see her." called Mrs Hughes.

I turned and nodded, "Gladly."

**(21****st**** August) **

I awoke early this morning, and looked out the window. The weather seemed no different to any other summers day, but somehow today, it was like it was just that little bit more sunny.

I felt guilt for lying to Mrs Hughes, it was clear that everyone missed Gwen. And so as part of my day with Branson, I had decided that we should go and see her for a little while. After all she was his friend as well, and I'm sure that she would miss him.

I had just started to brush my hair when Anna came in, with a bucket of coal, we didn't light the fires in the summer, the coal was just for decoration.

"Oh Lady Sybil, you're up already." she said, surprised at seeing me.

"I couldn't sleep, I was just so exited." I said. Anna looked confused.

"About what, Milady?"

"I'm going to see Gwen today." I said with a huge smile. "Branson's coming too." I added.

"That's lovely Milady" she said from the fireplace, "Be sure to give her my best."

I ate my breakfast quickly, eager not to waste time. Explaining that I would be spending the day with Gwen to Papa, before I left.

"Should I ask for Branson to bring the car around?" he asked as I got up.

"No, it's okay, I'll get him." I said with a smile, aware of the funny looks I was getting from my sisters.

I made my way down to Branson's cottage. Instead of having him bring the car around, I wanted to spend a day with him without formal 'rituals', as I saw them. And so I was going to meet him.

I arrived and knocked on the door. My heart was racing again. I waited and there was no answer, so I tried again.

Still no reply. I had a peak through the window and could see nobody.

Feeling disappointed that my informal start wasn't going that well, I went back to the house.

I nearly ran into William, as I came around the door.

"Lady Sybil, I'm so sorry." he stuttered. I noticed he was holding a picnic basket.

"No it's me who should be apologising, I wasn't watching where I was going." I said, giving him a smile. "Is that for me?" I asked indicating to the basket.

"Yes it is. Mrs Patmore said to give it to you, but when I went to the dining room his Lordship said that you had gone to get Branson."

"Oh, that is terribly kind of her." I sighed taking the basket. "_You_ wouldn't happen to know where Branson is would you? He's not in his cottage."

"He's in the kitchen Milady, some of the kitchen staff left yesterday and so he's helping out for the time being. I could get him for you if you like?"

"Would you?"

"Of course, Milady. Right away." he handed me the basket and left towards the kitchen.

I went into the library, and put the basket on Papa's desk.

My eye was caught by a open letter addressed to Papa from Sir Anthony Strallen. My curiosity getting the better of me, I picked it up. It read:

_Dear, Lord Grantham,_

_I hope I find you in good health. I write to you to offer my sincerest apologies, regarding your daughter Edith. _

_I understand that you and your family were expecting a proposal, from myself to Edith, and your displeasure regarding the matter. The situation has been explained to me and I now realise that I was mistaken, for that I offer my apology. I would very much like to convey my feelings to Edith in person, with your permission. She is a wonderful young lady and I would very much like to start again with her now that this matter has hopefully been resolved. _

_My deepest regards to you and your family, during these troubling times._

_Yours sincerely _

_Sir Anthony Strallen _

I put down the letter. I was happy for Edith, she is often misunderstood and I was glad that things were getting better for her.

There was the sound of approaching footsteps coming from the hall. I hurried over to the sofa and sat down, trying to look nonchalant.

The steps got closer and then Branson appeared around the door, looking anxious.

"I'm sorry" he said as he came over. "I didn't know you wanted to go out."

I rushed over to him and, checking that there was no one around first, gave him a swift kiss. Immediately the anxious expression on his face was replaced by a smile.

"No it my fault." I argued "I should have told you sooner."

There was a short moment of silence when we just looked at each other.

"So, where am I taking you today?" he asked rocking on the balls of his feet, he was so much more relaxed around me now, I was glad. I went over to the desk.

"I don't care. Somewhere far away." I said holding up the picnic basket and beaming at him.

Branson's POV

We had gone to see Gwen on our way to a nice spot I knew. She seemed so happy in her new job, even more so when she saw us. But it just made me feel worse when I told her that I would be leaving in a few days. She promised that she would write and made me promise that I would come and see her again before I left. I gave her my word, and passed on the messages from everyone before leaving.

The place I had decided on was a few miles outside Rippon. I had stumbled across it in my first week when I had been getting used to the area. It had taken a while to find it again but it was worth it.

It was about noon and we were nearly there, when I asked Sybil to close her eyes and not to open them until I say. She did so without anything but a questioning look in the mirror. When we arrived and she felt the car stop she asked:

"Can I open them now?"

"Not yet." I teased, getting out of the drivers seat and opening her door. "This way, keep them shut."

I had brought her to a small lake with a tiny rickety pier and surrounded by trees. Out on the lake where a few ducks and swans in the distance, and the sun was shining down on the water making it sparkle as if it were made of diamonds.

As I guided her through the trees she held my hand with both of hers. I held branches up and told her to duck in some places. When we had made it through the trees I stood back and told her to open her eyes.

She blinked in the sun light, before letting out a gasp and putting her hand to her mouth.

"It's beautiful!" she said turning to me. I gave her hand a squeeze.

"You like it?"

"I love it." she squeeled throwing herself at me.

Soon we had got out the picnic blanket, I had removed my jacket. And now we were lying on the blanket, our hands together, facing each other.

We talked about his Lordship and Mr Bates leaving to help in the camps; how happy Gwen seemed in her job; whether or not Mr Crawley would be joining up or not. Eventually the talk turned to politics.

"Will you be able to keep up with all the goings on, while you're out there?" Sybil asked.

"Probaly not unless it's war related." I said disappointedly. "Although I suppose a lot of it will be now."

"Well, I'll just have to keep you up to date then. I'll write everyday, even if nothing happens. Even if it's a completely normal boring day at the house, I'll write that I love you a million times."

"It will be a great pleasure to get any kind of letters from you. Receiving letters from a Lady of Downton, I will be at the envy of all my comrades."

She laughed but stopped quite quickly, looking serious and a bit appologetic.

"Whats wrong?" I asked.

"Well, I've been thinking about that and…" she paused, "…What if someone from the house finds the letter, or if someone in the army knows Papa? What if my family find out? We wont be able to see each other anymore."

"Then we'll just have to make arrangements to make sure it doesn't happen" I said.

She seemed happier now. Looking toward the lake a smile crept on to her face.

"Come on." she said, standing up. "Lets go in, it's too hot today." and she started towards the lake.

"I don't think Carson would be all too happy if I got my uniform wet." I called.

"Oh, really Tom. He wont mind, anyway the sun will dry us out by the time we leave?" she said, removing her shoes as she went.

Seeing her point, I took off mine and ran to join her.

We started to see how far into the lake we dared to go. Sybil only got up to her knees before insisting that her dress might not dry in time if she went any further.

I jokingly teased and mocked her, trying to coaks her in further. But I payed for it when I got to mid thigh level, walking backwards facing her, tripped over a large rock and plunged into the water. When I got back to the surface Sybil was doubled over with laughter when she took a look at me, soaked and sodden to the core. Getting to my feet, I got my own back by splashing her, she splashed back, I splashed her, she splashed me.

We continued until it became so that we could no longer feel our arms. Eventually we made a truse and retreated to the pier to dry off. The pier stretched to about twenty meters out into the lake, it was here when you noticed just how deep it got. Considering this lake was pretty clear, at the end of the pier, there was no sign of the bottom.

We lay down at the end of the pier, our feet dangling in the water. I was looking at the few clouds in the sky when Sybil said:

"You look nice with your hair like that."

I turned my head to look at her, my hand consciously raising toward my hair. Instead of the usual, required swept style, it had dried in it's natural way.

"Must be strange if your used to it the usual way." I said.

"It is a bit. But then all the men have their hair swept like that, so it's nice to see you different. Not that you're not anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well for a start, you listen to my views and encourage me, not hold me back. You are the only person who sees me not as 'Lady Sybil Crawley' just Sybil. And I feel that I can be myself around you, and that I'm not putting on an act to impress all the time." she sighed "Like I am expected to do at those silly parties." she finished, with a huff.

I could feel my cheeks redden slightly.

"I though that you liked the parties?" I asked.

"I don't dislike the parties, just the company." she said, sitting up. "All the men talk about is hunting and money. Whenever I try to get into a conversation about politics, they always laugh and say that is funny that a woman would be interested in such a complicated topic." she said this in the same annoyed tone as before. I chuckled quietly to myself, until she continued with "They're not like you."

I sat up and looked into her eyes. We both moved forward at the same time, our lips meeting in the middle. I lead further forward to deepen the kiss, the pier made a troubling, low, creaking sound that made us break apart. We both looked down at the pier and then back to each other.

"Hungry?" I asked, pointedly.

After making our way back, hesitantly, to the shore, we unpacked the basket. Inside were the basics of a picnic: sandwiches, fruit, cheese, cakes, and then surprisingly a bottle of red wine, a rose and a small selection of candles.

When Sybil got out the wine, rose and candles I smiled at her, but she looked confused and slightly worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing." she said quickly composing herself and returning the smile. But I wasn't entirely convinced.

Judging by how much the sun had moved since we arrived, I guessed it was about three or four o'clock. I hadn't noticed how hungry I was until now. We quickly made our way through the sandwiches and had just started on the fruit and cheese, when the conversation turned back to the parties.

"Granny has set up another social gathering in a few weeks." Sybil declared. "No doubt that it's for Mary's benefit. I heard that cousin Matthew is being dragged along before he leaves for Manchester, Sir Anthony as well." she took a sip of wine. "I expect Mama and Granny have some kind of ploy to have Mary and Edith surrounded by handsome suitors to make them jealous and realise what they've been missing."

"What about you?" I asked, slightly worried about the reply.

"Oh, I'll probably be put to pointing out my sisters' popularity to Sir Anthony and Matthew." she said nonchalantly.

"No, I ment…if you would be pushed at any handsome suitors?" I said, picking a grape off the bunch, not looking at her. She didn't answer straight away.

"Not at this one. When they have my sisters sorted out, they'll focus on me." she took a grape aswell and another sip of wine. "But I really wish they wouldn't. It's a little unproductive."

"In what way?"

"Well, it's all very enjoyable, it's fun getting dressed up and meeting new people. But I don't understand how you are ment to find someone you want to marry, when you meet them for all of five minutes before the next one is pulled in front of you? Besides if they're not you then I'm not interested."

"Well, I must say, I am relived." I laughed, picking up my glass of wine. "I hope you keep them at bay with your cold, uninterested demenor, until I can come back to you."

"I'll be waiting."

We moved towards each other again, but before we got there she jumped up.

"Swans!" she exclaimed. She bent down and picked up some cake, before running off gave me a kiss and called "love you" over her shoulder.

I watched her run to the end of the pier, my heart skipped a little when it creaked again. She bent down at the end, near the swans and held out the cake. I got up and walked to the lake edge. The sun was starting to set now, the sky was beginning to turn pink and orange and the sun had got lower but it still sparkled on the surface. The sound of cricket came from close by and there was a bird in the tree behind me singing away accompanied by the sound of the lake beating against the shore.

But by far the most beautifully, stunning sight and sound was Sybil kneeling on that pier, the sun behind her, a smile stretched across her face and the sound of her laughter drifting back, as the swans fed off her hand.

When the two swans had finished the cake Sybil brought her hand back, but the swans followed. The first one propelled it's self on to the pier, which groaned under the sudden impact. My heart stuttered and I made forward until the sound stopped. Then the second joined, making an even louder creak, that didn't stop. I went forward again, Sybil looked up at me, eyes wide. Then the noise stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief.

But the moment of silence was interrupted by a snapping sound coming from the pier.

It was as if everything happened slowly. Before I knew it I was watching Sybil plunge into the deep lake with a mix of wood and swans.

I called out whilst charging forward seeing her hand dissapear below the surface of the lake.

~oOo~

**Hello all, I hope you had a nice Easter :) I've put up a nice long chapter because I feel bad for not updating for nearly two weeks :O Anyhoo, the usual 'thank yous' too my reviewers I continue to love you all! Each review is like bit of chocolate, once I've had one bit I need more :D **

**xX Big Hugs Xx**


	7. Letting the Laundry Dry

Chapter 7

"Sybil!"

The last thing I heard was Branson's yell as I plunged into the water. My arms, which were flailing around me, were the last part of me to be completely submerged. I had closed my eyes when I had fallen and so became completely disorientated in the lake. I didn't want to open my eyes.

I twisted and turned through the water, my dress encasing my legs making it harder to move. My throat was becoming tighter. Through my eyelids there was an area that was brighter than the other. Taking a chance that it was the light of the surface, I kicked as much as my dress would allow.

But my kicks became less effective as each second past. I could feel myself drifting further and further away, both in my head and from my goal.

With a few more feeble attempts at the surface, my lungs felt as though they would burst, I foolishly tried to take a breath and opened both my eyes and mouth.

At the same instant, just as my vision started to blacken, I saw an arm encircle my waste.

I smiled as a sudden white light engulfed the black.

~oOo~

There was a slight breeze washing over me. I could feel the dampness of my dress covering my body, heavier than before. I had always thought that, in heaven, everything would appear perfect again. I guess not.

It took me a while to notice that I was not lying down instead I was leaning against something. Something warm and gentle. It was comforting. The brightness against my eyelids intensified. I tried to raise my hand to my forehead to block out the light, but I was prevented by another warm but damp presence that I hadn't noticed, resting on my hand.

At the feel of my attempt at freedom, the frame that I was against shifted slightly. There was a faint calling of my name, it sounded so far away and had a sense of urgency about it. The light which bathed my eyes disappeared. Curious, I opened them.

I couldn't make out the person at first, as the light was so bright behind them, all I could see was their large silhouette.

"Sybil?" it called again. The voice was familiar, very familiar. "Sybil". The figure started to come into focus. The more I recognised, the more my heart raced.

Finally the soft blue, concerned eyes of Tom Branson came into view.

"Oh, thank God!" he sighed, leaving my gaze for only a second to press his hand to his head.

"I'm alive?" I asked in a confused tone. To my surprise he laughed a little.

"Yes, your alive, you nearly gave _me_ heart failure, but your alive. Do you have such little faith in me to think that I wouldn't save you?" he said with a small smile.

"Of course I have faith in you." I said as I tried to prop myself up, but my head spun in protest.

"Probably not the best idea." he suggested, putting his hands on my shoulders to steady me. At his warm touch I realised just how cold I was and gave a little shudder. He noticed and reached for the blanket.

"Here." he said, wrapping it around me. As I pulled it closer to my chest, I realised that the top layer of my dress was missing. Feeling my cheeks redden slightly, I looked around at my surroundings for the first time since I awoke.

I was under the large oak that we had the picnic under. When I searched the tree I saw my dress hanging from a low branch. Branson must have seen me looking at it or my furiously red cheeks. For he hesitantly said.

"I thought that it would be better for you if you didn't have so many wet clothes on. I hope you don't mind?" I laughed when he also turned red and his hand reached to the back of his head, a common sign of a nervous Branson.

"Very well, I understand why you did it, and I thank you." I announced in serious tone. "However," I continued, "I don't think I can forgive you completely until you… remove _your_ shirt." I laughed inside, keeping up my serious demeanour, as his eyes widened. I raised an eyebrow. "Well? We don't want you getting ill now do we?"

"I'll be fine." he insisted. However a small sniffle made a perfectly timed appearance. Branson looked slightly annoyed at his bodily functions, and turned is head slightly away. I took the opportunity to make an attempt to grab the bottom of his shirt. I managed to clutch the hem in one hand before he pulled away.

"Sybil!" he protested. "What are you-" before he could finish, I made for him again. This time we both fell to the floor, and I managed to force his shirt up to his arms. Taking the opportunity of landing on top of him , both of us laughing as I tried to lift the rest of the shirt off, but he was too fast and managed to get hold of my wrists, preventing me continuing.

"Fine, fine, I'll do it." he laughed, releasing my wrists as he pulled himself back up and removed the rest of his shirt with one quick motion.

Before I could do anything else, his arms had curled under my legs and arms; and he swept me off the ground. I had the blanket in my right hand and my left flung around his neck. He took me back to the car, kissing me before putting me in the back seat and sitting next to me, wrapping the blanket around us both. As soon as he was next to me I placed my head just under his next and felt his left arm move up my back and around my shoulders.

He flinched when I moved my hand across his chest.

"Oh I'm sorry." I said quickly looking up at him.

"It's alright, your just colder than I thought." he laughed, and took my frozen hand is his warmer one. "Better?" he asked.

"Much better" I replied, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek. I addressed him as 'Tom' but I will always think of him as my Branson. "When shall I come and see you tomorrow?"

I felt his gaze and lifted my head to meet it. I had not expected to see regret swimming in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Sybil, but I have to pick up your Grandmother's friend from Manchester tomorrow."

"Well, I will just have to come with you then. I will say that I'm going to see Cousin Matthew."

"You know that I would like nothing more than to say yes. But I just don't think that it will be possible to fit yourself, your Grandmother, Countess Gray and her three children into one car." he sighed.

"Mm…I guess your right. Promise me you will send word when you return, I will make up an excuse to leave."

"I promise. The moment I return." he said with a small chuckle looking into my eyes.

I lifted myself up slightly, place one hand against his face and my lips against his. He released my other hand which I encircled around his neck, pulling him closer. Soon I was pressed against the bottom of the seat with Branson over me, I ran my hands through his hair, moving down once again to his neck; then his shoulder; and down still further becoming completely and utterly lost in my explorations.

I was very aware that his hands had taken up the same journey; his fingers gently traced my collar bone around my neck; following it down to my shoulder-blades with more urgency; I arched my back forward as he ran his fingers down my spine; coming to a momentary stop at my hip. His left hand placed on the side of my neck; his fingers brushing against my hair; his thumb occasionally stroking the side of my face.

His lips left mine and started on a similar path, planting kisses along the way; lingering on my neck before continuing to the ends of my shoulder. As he did this I had access to his neck and so repaid the favour in a similar fashion. Gently brushing my lips against his neck, I made my way up and across his jaw-line; teasing him. At this his grip on my hip tightened slightly and I let out the tiniest, mischievous laugh in his ear, making him move his hand further down my leg; moving the dress aside.

This was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was exhilarating, my heart was racing. All I was aware of was Branson's touch; how it was gentle but passionate, all at the same time. This was going further then I'd ever known before; but I didn't stop him.

His other hand left the side of my neck and instead moved around to the back; his lips crushing down on mine.

I had place my hands on the side of his face, edging them around the back of his neck, pulling him in. My thumbs positioned before his ears with my fingers getting more and more tangled in his hair with each passing moment.

I freed them and slid them down his neck and ,slowly, part way down his chest and up to his shoulders. I did this again and again; inching further down each time. As I got further down, so did Branson.

The hand on my leg had crept around my thigh, pulling it closer to him. His left hand had moved from the back of my neck down to the small of my back. All this made my heart feel as though is was ready to burst out of my chest.

My hands had found Branson's waist and just started to circle around to his back, when his grip on my thigh tightened and he pulled away.

"Tom?"

He didn't reply immediately. The only sounds were our heavy, uneven breaths.

"I'm sorry." he murmured, pushing himself up to a seated position, not looking at me.

I sat up also and placed my hands on his arm. "Sorry? Sorry for what? Did I do something wrong?"

He sighed and turned to look at me for a brief moment. "Not at all. It is I who is in the wrong, I shouldn't of let it go that far, I'm sorry."

"Why do you keep saying that? What could you possible have to apologise for? That was…well…breathtaking."

"I have to agree with you there. But I'm afraid that if we…continued, I would not be able to control myself." he turned to face me again "I do not want to leave having ruined you, with the possibility that-" he paused looking at his hands. "-that I may not return. It would shame you, and your family."

"What if I don't care?" I argued, indignantly. He gave a small grin.

"You may not now, but who knows what the future will bring for us. I can't take that risk, knowing that I may cause negativity to befall your name, of any sort."

I understood, but it didn't make accepting it any easier. I nodded in response.

"I think it's time we headed back. I'll, em, go and get your dress" he said, rather bashfully, reaching across to kiss my forehead before leaving my side.

As he left I wrapped my self in the blanket. I had gotten considerable colder without him around me. Was I being selfish? I did not consider his feelings, but he seemed to think of nothing but my welfare. I could see him jogging back towards the car, my dress over his arm. He handed it to me before going to the drivers seat.

~oOo~

According to Ripon's Town hall clock, it was 5:35 by the time we arrived back. I had changed into my, now dry, dress in the car. Along a country road of course.

I had managed to recover most of the twigs and bit of other greenery from my hair on the way back, but it still appeared as though I had been dragged threw a bush backwards. And so Branson had suggested entering through the garage door, as to reduce the quite high possibility that I would be seen.

I was doing well so far, checking around corners before I turned them, helped considerably. It was funny to think that I had to sneak around my own home. With only one corner left until my room, I was stopped on the last one as I had to wait for Anna to leave the corridor, I swiftly checked before hurrying towards my door.

Unfortunately just as I was about to enter, Mary came around the opposite corner. Quickly, I shut the door and prayed that she hadn't seen me. I tried to shake my hair of any remaining twigs, before taking a brush to it. At that moment there was a knock at my door.

"Sybil, It's Mary. May I come in?" she called.

I tried to make myself look presentable before turning to answer.

"Oh, Mary." I called back, taking a seat at my dressing table. "Of course, of course, come in."

She came in and stood, staring at me with her arms folded. _'Oh dear' _I thought, it was never a good sign.

"We need to talk." she declared, striding over to sit on the bed.

~oOo~

**Hi, hope your all well :) I had fun writing this chapter, as you could imagine, and so I hope that you enjoyed reading it. If so then please review and tell me what you think. **

**I'm coming up to what I see as the 'half way point' or the end of 'part one' in the next chapter or so, and so after that there is going to be the main dramary part after that so stick with me and you will be rewarded! **

**Love to my reviewers so far, your all lubbly jubbly ;P**

**xX Big Hugs Xx**


	8. Oily Shoes and Twinkling Eyes

**A/N Hello, sorry for the wait but the exams took over yet again :( really do they not know that we have better things to be writing! Anyhoo, you will be glad to know that the Count (ish) makes his long over due appearance in this chapter, so I hope you like him and the other characters. ;) Happy reading! xXx**

**21st**** August 1914**

**Sybil's POV**

I approached my sister cautiously, she had adamant expression on every inch of her face and her arms were folded in a disgruntled manner. Tentatively I perched on the edge of my bed waiting for the explosion that was likely to ensue. In my head I had prepared for the worse; defensive arguments and excuses were ringing around one after another. I hoped that I wouldn't need them.

"Sybil," she began, I breathed in preparing myself. "what are you and Branson doing?" My insides seemed to clinch together for a brief moment but she didn't give me a chance to answer. "It's not that I am in any way attempting to pry into your personal affairs. Just please, as my sister, answer me this… your not still going to those retched political rallies are you ?"

The relief that came over me must have shown on my face for Mary looked at me with an even more suspicious gaze. I realised with a widen of her eyes that I had not answered yet.

"Of course I'm not. After what happened last time, I don't believe that I will be going to another." _For the time being in any case_. I thought to myself getting up off the bed.

Mary didn't seem satisfied as her eyes followed me across the room to my dressing table.

"Good, we wouldn't want something to happen to you again." I paused for a moment in the act of running the brush through my hair, she evidently assumed that I was referring to my injury, not the jeopardizing of Branson's job . "Matthew might not always be there to come to your rescue." she added haughtily. At these words something slotted into place as I observed my pale skinned sibling through the mirror.

"What do you mean?" I asked to confirm my suspicions.

"Really Sybil, did you think that _I _wouldn't notice?" she laughed with a bitter undertone.

"Clearly, as there is _nothing_ to notice. I do not have feelings for Matthew, Mary."

The smug expression on her face was replaced by confusion, I returned to removing the remaining twigs from my hair as she analysed this information.

"But, ever since the Garden Party, you have been acting rather odd." she began.

"Have I?"

"Yes, you have. Taking any opportunity to journey into town; going out for long drives; spending most of your free time in the garage…" she paused, I could feel her gaze in the mirror and the sense of danger that came with it. "If I didn't know any better I'd say that you had become infatuated with that Branson." she laughed but my insides had frozen up at her last words.

She continued to chuckle to herself as she returned her gaze to me. I quickly started to laugh in what I hoped would be a convincing way. But I was a bit slow.

"Sybil?" she asked, all laughter gone with a scrutinizing look as she stared at me. I turned my upper body to face her with a fake look of curiosity. "You haven't?"

I let out another loud laugh, "Really Mary, stop being so absurd." I rose from my dressing table. "If you continue like this you'll rival Edith as a comic." I managed to say to a rather worried looking Mary as I made my way quickly out of the door.

~oOo~

**22****nd**** August 1914**

I made it to the Reception Room at the last possible moment, earning myself some disapproving stares from Mama and Edith.

We were awaiting the Countess Gray and her children, who where currently being greeted by Papa and Granny. As promised I had rushed down to the garage to meet with Branson the moment he returned from Manchester. I hadn't been able to see him all day; in the morning he had to bring Granny to the Great House and then journey to Manchester to collect the Countess. This took longer than anticipated as the train had encountered some problems and was delayed for an hour or so.

I had spent most of my day in Papa's library, as you get the best view of the main drive from the window, browsing through the limited collection of motor car manuals. My initial plan was to make it seem like the hours I spent in the garage was not because of Branson and merely that I was interested in the workings of the car. To my surprise, I actually found them rather interesting.

When the sound of the car penetrated the glass and found my ear, the manual was left perilously close to the edge of the side table as I had discarded it on the nearest surface as I swept out of the room.

Knowing that we had minutes we didn't utter a word as his arms urgently embraced my upper body, which I had flung at him the moment he had his feet on the ground. I buried my face into his chest. The sent of the summer air which lingered in his uniform over powered the odour of motor oil and wax polish.

I removed my arms from his waist and rapped them around his neck, whilst making the slight stretch to place my lips to his. Feeling his hands drop to my hips, I found myself thinking how this kiss was somehow different from the others. The thought, however, was soon put out of my mind. The way Branson had responded was much more intense and passionate then I had expected. Almost exceeding that of the time in the car. His lips crushed down on mine, as we progressed we both became wrapped up in the moment entirely.

So much so, that with out a clearing of his throat, Mr Bates' appearance in the garage would have gone unnoticed.

Upon the announcement of his presence, the muscles in my body seized up. Looking over Branson's shoulder I saw Bates stood by the main entrance of the garage. His expression was not one of shock, anger or any of what you would expect a person to have upon seeing such a situation. He looked quite normal.

Bates waited until I had managed to regain enough bodily control to remove myself from being in such close proximity to Branson, before saying:

"You are expected in the Reception Room Lady Sybil." his voice was just as clueless as his expression as to what he was thinking. So I decided to respond in a similarly normal manner.

"Thank you, Bates." I said before walking steadily past him, without looking back at Branson.

"I think we need to talk lad." I heard Bates say before I had gone too far.

~oOo~

Mama was conducting her usual inspections of our attire, straightening out sleeves and necklaces, tucking strands of stray hair, whilst lecturing us on the proper ways to act and conversation topics to engage in. A list we had heard a thousand times or more.

The three of us were paying little attention, myself least of all, I had much more pressing matters on my mind.

"Sybil!"

My mothers cry naturally caught my attention.

"What? What is it?"

"Your shoe!" she exclaimed, indicating to my left duck-egg-blue shoe, which was slightly coated in a small flecks of oil on the side. "What have you been doing? No, no don't wipe it, you will make it worse. Just don't draw attention to it, we can't change it now their coming now."

Sure enough moments later the door opened and Papa and Granny entered accompanied by two ladies and two gentlemen, all four of whom were quite tall.

We rose from our chairs to greet our guests, glad for the reason for Mary to break her persistent, suspicious stare.

Upon meeting Countess Gray, it was easy to see why her and Granny were friends. She was a proud woman, who seemed at an age between Granny and Mama dressed in a flowing lemon coloured dress, and addressed you by somehow looking above her glasses whilst keeping her nose in the air. Her daughter, Clara, looked around 23 and was dressed in lavender, she was shy and of few words. For the three of us however, the winners of our attention were the Countesses two sons.

There was no denying the fact that they were both handsome. Tall, dark haired with fine features and strong builds.

Francis, the elder of the two, at 27, had a longer face than his brother with thinner lips and eyes, his chin ended in more of a point and his eyes were a light gray like those of his mother. He could certainly be called the 'charmer' of the two, taking each of our hands in turn as he introduced himself, whilst looking into our eyes as he placed his lips, for longer then was required, on our hands.

Henry was his brothers junior by a year, he shared his brothers square jaw but it seemed softer in a sense, as did the rest of his face. His eyes were a deep blue and more open and round, kinder. It was clear that the natural curl to his dark brown hair was fighting back against the straight swept style it was meant to be in. I found that he gave a more approachable feel than Francis.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sybil." he said in a soft Dorset accent as he took my hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr Gray."

"Henry, please, it's my understanding that we will be seeing quite a bit of each other, so lets skip the formalities." he said in a hushed tone. "Just don't tell my mother, she may have a fit." he added with a one-sided grin that took me by surprise when I found my self momentarily breathless. I knew that it shouldn't. But it did.

"Q-Quite so, my Grandmother wont have talk of doing things differently. You should here her complaints of cousin Isobel's attempts to modernise the hospital, they're quite amusing."

"Perhaps you could tell me about the more memorable ones?" he suggested.

Before I could reply the dinner gong sounded and we made our way to the dining room.

Each family took one side of the table, with Papa at one end and Countess Gray at the other. Naturally Mary and Edith were placed opposite Henry and Francis and myself opposite Clara.

Up until the end of the main course, dinner was going to what Granny would call, proper procedure. Until, in an attempt to create some pre-dessert conversation, Papa asked why the brothers were not in the army like the rest of their family.

"Unfortunately, Henry and myself are Asthma suffers, and, due to the severity of our conditions, we are unable to enrol." said Francis.

"So, why don't any of your brothers have the disease?"

"In all honestly, we don't know. But we believe that it must have something to do with our family members, as our Grandfather also suffered from it." Henry replied, taking a short pause before continuing. "It was your father was is not mother?"

"Indeed."

"You see he was a political speaker back in France, and he occasionally found himself to be short of breath, so to speak."

"Foolish talk," said the Countess in barely more than a whisper, "Those 'symptoms' were clearly a sign that the Lord did not want him spreading such vulgar ideas. And as a result his family have been curses with the same disease."

"Oh come now mother, there was nothing wrong with what Grandpa thought, besides everyone is allowed there own opinion and to voice it." Henry argued.

At this Mama let out a small chuckle drawing all eyes around the table to her.

"Oh, you sound just like our Sybil." I could feel the gazes fall on to me as my mother said this.

"And what's wrong with that, people should be allowed to say what they think, if not how could we possibly have a country which is good and fair for everyone-" I began.

"Oh I think that's quite enough of that sort of talk." Granny said sharply, with her little unsettled smile.

"I agree," added Papa, "Shall we have some dessert?" he said pointedly.

No one said much after that, making dessert a rather silent affair. It wasn't until we had retired to the drawing room for some after dinner talks, that the topic of my interest in politics came up once more.

"I agree with what you said earlier _Lady_ Sybil." said Henry, with another one-sided grin and a twinkle in his eye, across the small table where we were gathered.

"Thank you _Mr_ _Gray_, I'm glad you do." I replied with a small grin of my own.

"So how did you become interested in politics?" he asked.

"It's all because of the 'bloody fool Branson' isn't it Papa." laughed Edith, but she was the only one.

"I suppose you could say that he was the start of the problem, yes." said Papa, when the echoes of Edith's laughter had faded.

"Who's this Branson?" asked Francis, taking a sip of his drink.

"Our Irish, socialist, chauffer."

"A political, Irish, chauffer." said Henry, wide-eyed, his voice full of enthusiasm. "I would very much like to meet this Branson fellow."

"Well then," said Countess Gray. "Why don't we? I do believe that today's travelling has taken the energy right out of me. With your consent Violet, would it be possible for us to retire to your residence?"

"Of course. Robert, would you have Carson tell Branson to bring the car around."

While they waited for the car, the Gray's said their goodbyes.

Francis in very much the same manner as he introduced himself., and Clara with little more than a murmured thanks.

"Until next time Sybil." said Henry out of earshot of the rest of the group.

"I look forward to it…Henry."

And with another flash of his breath-taking smile he turned to leave.


	9. Goodbye

**Chapter 9**

**Branson's POV**

"Ouch!" my cry reverberated around the lonely garage. I withdrew my hand from the engine of the car to find a thin line of blood trickling down my hand. My concentration was non existent, I couldn't focus. Mr Bates' words dominated my thoughts. _"I hope you know what your getting yourself into…both of you." _It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Said as calmly as if he was commenting on the weather.

He didn't say much after that, a small promise of his silence paired with a pat on the shoulder before he turned to leave.

His promise should have been a cause of calmness and relief but his words continued to haunt my thoughts in the hours that followed. What we're getting our selves into? What did he mean? The social implications on Sybil if she was found with the family chauffer? Or the up and coming emotional battle that was to ensue in the next 24 hours, and the many months to come?

I pondered over this whilst wrapping a piece of cloth around the deep cut in my finger. I suppose I'll have to get used to blood and cuts, there's no doubt that I will be seeing a lot more gruesome ones very soon. As I watched the first of the blood seeping through the thin cloth; the sound of a lazy drawling voice came from the door that could only belong to one person.

"They want the car brought round." said Thomas' head which was poked around the door.

"Hang on! I've not finished working on it." I called before his head could disappear back round the door.

"That's not my problem." said the snide bastard with a thin one-sided grin and a evil twinkle in his eye, as he closed the door.

Panicked, I dove back into the engine and desperately tried to reattach the starter belt, which had caused some difficulties on the way to pick up the guests. Praying that it wouldn't slip of again until I go back, I started the car up.

I made my hurried apologies to the dowager for the delay upon arriving at the front of the house, which she dismissed with an impatient wave of her hand as she entered the car. I was surprised to find the seat next to mine occupied when I when to climb in myself.

He was the younger of the two brothers looked a few years older then myself with a cheerful demeanour, made clear by the large smile he greeted me with.

"I hope you don't mind, there's just no room in the back." he said, obviously picking up on the confusion that must have been showing on my face.

"Not at all sir." He nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing else until we left the grounds.

"So, you must be Branson?"

"That's right sir."

"Henry, Henry Gray" he said extending his hand out in greeting. "Forgive me Branson, but when Lord Grantham spoke of the political, Irish chauffer who 'poisoned his youngest daughter's mind with such radical ideas', your not what came to mind."

"Oh, in what way do I not meet your expectations, sir?" I knew I was being bold, especially as he was a guest and someone I hardly knew. But for some reason it felt like he wouldn't mind, on the contrary, he may appreciate it.

"Well, for a start you're not singing folk songs and there's not a shamrock, pot of gold or a glass of scotch in sight." he laughed, apparently my boldness was not an issue

"Very true, sir." I chuckled "However, I think you'll find that I am in fact wearing green and that scotch is more Scottish, then Irish."

He let out a louder laugh. "You are witty aren't you…no wonder you caught Lady Sybil's attention."

I didn't get a chance to reply, for Henry had barely got the sentence out of his mouth when the car let out a series of loud shudders before coming to a abrupt stop. Thankful for the excuse not to respond to Mr Gray's comment, I quickly made my way round the engine. I had just opened it up, when there was the sound of the side door closing and moments later Mr Gray was joining me in peering into the car.

"I'm terribly sorry sir, it's being a little temperamental today." I explained, "It wont take long."

"Have you enlisted yet Branson?" He asked after a time of silence as he watched me work. "I'm sure the military would appreciate your skills with machinery."

"Yes, Mr Gray, I have. In fact I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Oh! Well that's no good, I was hoping to get to know you…from what they said at dinner, you sound like an intriguing chap."

"Intriguing? From what I can imagine being said about me by his Lordship, the last impression I would expect someone to get of me would be 'intriguing', more along the lines of 'troublesome'."

"Indeed, I believe my mother got that impression. Then again, she's never been supportive of people being allowed to express their opinions. For someone who was raised in France, she is terribly British sometimes." he paused, "Lady Sybil on the other hand, is one of the most spirited young ladies I have ever had the pleasure to meet. She is quite the breath of fresh air."

"She certainly is." I replied, in a strained voice as I attempted to stretch the starter belt over the gear.

"I don't suppose-" he began.

"Henry, leave the poor boy alone. Let him get on with his work so we can get on." Came a shrill voice from the car, interrupting him.

"Very well Mother" he replied with a hint of boredom in his voice, as he followed her strict instruction. When he climbed back into the car it tilted to one side which stretched the starter belt that little bit more that I needed, allowing me to easily fit it back onto the cog. Shutting the bonnet with a 'bang' I joined Mr Gray in the front.

"Thank you for your help, sir" I said once we were on our way again. Now it was his turn to have the quizzical expression. "That little tip was just what I needed." I explained. He tipped his head in response.

It seemed that his mother's stern words had made there mark as he didn't speak again until we arrived at the Dowager's house. Once his mother was out of ear shot, he turned back to me.

"You wouldn't happen to know where your training base will be?"

"Mr Bates said it was just on the outskirts of Scarborough, sir."

"Ah, excellent. My father is stationed in Hull he's in command of the defence of the east coast. If I send word a head of your arrival, would you pay him a visit. I do believe that he has some contacts in the political world, and so when you return from the war I'm sure he can give you that starting step into politics. Nothing major of course, but it will get you some experience and a good position to keep an eye out for any opportunities."

He finished with a wink before he turned away, leaving me sat there barely able to splutter out my word of thanks and promise to do so. While taking in this grand offer I had forgotten entirely to ask why, when I came to my senses he and his brother where nearing the large door to the Dowager's home but I could still hear the snide comments from the elder brother.

"Getting friendly with the servants again, Harry? You'll have to watch yourself when you have your own home, they'll be wanting pay rises and extra holidays if you don't keep them in check."

I didn't hear Henry's response as the door was closed behind them moments after the words had escaped his brothers mouth.

And to think, I had just considered a change of perspective of these upper class folk.

~oOo~

**August 23rd**** 1914 **

Considering what was to happen today, I slept incredibly well. If I didn't know any better I would of though this a perfectly normal day: I woke in the early hours of the morning as per usual; got dressed and headed toward the Big House; greeted those who were in the kitchen when I arrived and flicked through the servants copy of the paper whilst eating breakfast, making an occasional comment to the conversation around me.

However, this wasn't a normal day.

I didn't change into my chauffer uniform. Instead it was my pair of brown trousers and shoes, white shirt and braces, throwing a jacket over my arm as I left .

There weren't that many people in the kitchen when I arrived, most noticeable was the lack of male staff. William had left yesterday along with two other young lads from the house and three from the village.

I took my seat next to Anna, who passed me the paper. The cover composed of little un-war related issues, making room for a small article in the bottom right about a Duke of somewhere marring a Lady of something.

There was no conversation to make a contribution to. The only sounds were the clatter of pots and the occasional chink of cutlery.

Mr Bates entered the silent kitchen just as Mrs Patmore placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. Being the kind employer that he was, his Lordship had instructed Mrs Patmore that those of us who are leaving are to be given a decent breakfast, as opposed to the usual porridge. Bates hesitated at the door before taking his seat. I found myself smirking at my bacon, even though Bates would be joining me he still appeared unable to dress in a casual way. If I didn't know that his Sunday best was simply his uniform without a waistcoat, I would say that he was wearing it now. However, like me, he had his jacket on his arm, which he placed over the back of his chair.

I guess this is the way things are…the day you leave for war.

Sybil's POV

I sat at the table with a selection of breakfast food spread in front of me and a empty plate. I told Mama that I had lost my appetite, but it was more like I had lost my entire stomach.

Try as I might I could not stop glancing at the large grandfather clock behind Edith. Assuming that the trucks would arrive at the same time as previous days, I had a hour and a half until 11:30 to find Branson.

That hour and a half quickly turned to an hour. Then forty five minutes.

Unable to wait any longer I made my excuses to Mama, I left for the kitchens, that would be my first port of call. However I had only made it to the staircase before crossing paths with Papa, who looked at me in a quizzical manner.

"Sybil? Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"

"I'm afraid I've been feeling a little under the weather today and the idea of food isn't that appetising." I gave my stomach a rub complete with a pained expression to emphasis my point.

"Oh, well we can't be having that." Papa declared, "I'm just on my way to see Bates in the kitchens, why don't you come along and see if Mrs Patmore has any ginger biscuits to spare?"

'_Perfect_' I thought, smiling widely at my father as I made my way down the few steps to accompany him.

Once again there was a clatter of chairs when Papa and I entered the kitchen, there weren't as many people in as normal as some had been required to take up other tasks until we could hire some more staff. I barely took in Papa's request for Bates to join him in his study, as I was busy peering around him as to get a better look around the kitchen. My heart sank when I saw no sign of him.

Then Papa turned and pointedly said if there was any thing I wanted to ask for. I turned back to face Mrs Patmore, when a breeze came through the open window and, to my surprise, with the scent of summer air came a whiff of motor oil. Once again my eyes searched the room only to find that the face I was looking for was right before me. I fought hard to keep a straight face, if he was wearing his uniform I would have picked him out immediately, but in his casual clothes and a mess of hair, I barely recognised him.

"Sybil's got a bit of a upset stomach," Papa stated to Mrs Patmore. "and she was wondering if you had any ginger biscuits to spare?"

All I could do was give a small nod in agreement, all the while giving small glances at Branson, who couldn't stop his smile forming wider and wider. As Mr Bates left with Papa, Mrs Patmore had reappeared from her store cupboard with a small jar. For the excuse to be closer to Branson, I jumped forward to meet her halfway. She turned to put the biscuits on a plate, when I felt a small folded piece of paper being slotted into my left hand, I let a smile out as I gave the hand that put the note in mine the tiniest squeeze.

I accepted the plate of biscuits gave my thanks and left rather hurriedly.

Once out of sight of any prying eyes, I put the plate of biscuits on the side and opened the note. It read:

_Meet me in the Garage in 5 minutes._

Perfectly giddy with excitement I just as well sprinted to the front door. It was in my sights when I was forced to reduce my speed to a dignified level, by the appearance of Francis Grey.

"Why Lady Sybil, what a pleasure to see you on this fine morning." he said in a rather oily tone as he approached, removing his hat.

"The pleasure is mine Mr Gray" I replied, trying to keep all impatient tones at bay, "if you're looking for my father, I believe he is occupied at present but if you let Carson know then I'm sure he wont be long." I had only the opportunity to think about leaving before he replied.

"Oh no matter, it is not that urgent. Were you heading out?"

"Indeed, it's such a nice day." I admitted, I could hardly say no as there would be no other destination to my given course.

"Excellent, would you mind if I joined you?"

"Of course not." I lied, "But my father will surely be done soon, wouldn't you be better off wait-?"

"Oh no it's fine, as you said it's a lovely day and it's really not that urgent that I see his Lordship, shall we?" and with that he offered out his arm which, with little choice, I took.

A more emotionally painful walk, I'm sure had never been taken by another human being.

I had originally planed that by the time we made it as far as the large Oak, which was occupied closely around the side of the house, I would have been able to conjure up some excuse, but Mr Gray hardly gave me a chance to. By the time we made it to the small lake I had rather given up hope of getting a word of protest in at all, by the Lord the man could never mind talk for England, but the whole of Europe.

I was starting to wonder if there were any topics he hadn't covered yet when I spotted a medium sized truck making it's way toward the house. Mr Gray, had noticed it too.

"I say, is that an army truck?"

Seeing my chance I quickly interjected.

"I do believe it is. I'm terribly sorry but I'm going to have to take my leave." not waiting for his reply I made a bee line to the garage entrance.

_Please by there, please be there, please be there. _I thought desperately.

"Your late." was the phrase that greeted me the moment I entered the garage, in the only voice I wanted to hear.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." I cried running over and throwing my arms around Branson's neck. "I got cornered by that Francis Gray, I couldn't escape."

"That bad huh?"

"Let's just say it got me seriously weighing up the consequences of cutting someone's tongue out." I pulled back to get a good look at him, his hands rested on my hips. "I'm so sorry."

"If I say I forgive you, will you stop apologising? Besides I've got something-"

He was cut off by the side door opening to reveal Mr Bates, who didn't look too surprised to find them there.

"I thought you would be here." he said, not indicating to either of them in particular. "The trucks here laddie…but if you want I could stall for five minutes or so." he added with a small smile. Branson and I both nodded in agreement and with another in return Bates closed the door and left.

I turned back to Branson, "You were saying?".

"That I had something for you…" he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small box. "…it's not much but believe it or not this was all my savings."

He placed the delicate package in my hands and I lifted up the lid to reveal a hair pin…the most beautiful hair pin I had ever laid my eyes upon.

It was a small pearly cream disc, a centimetre a least, with a band of gold around the outside complete with two Iris', one yellow and the other blue, painted with the greatest detail on the disc.

I couldn't speak. I was afraid that if I did the tears would come flowing to fast to control. So instead I just dove into his chest, dropped the box and with the pin in one hand grasped at his shirt. Feeling the gentleness of his arms enclose me and his kiss on my head it became impossible to control the build up of tears that were fighting to come out.

And so, for the next few minutes I sobbed uncontrollably into his chest.

When the time came to leave we clasped on to each others hands, we knew we wouldn't be seen as everyone had already gathered outside. We wandered slowly towards the entrance, enough time to dry my eyes and his shirt.

We arrived in the entrance hall and agreed that I should go first. Before I left his side I dragged him back around the corner and placed a passionate kiss on his lips, clutching both sides of his face in my hands. I gazed into his eyes and whispered that I loved him, before sweeping around the corner, tears once again swimming in my eyes and a lump in my throat.

He emerged from the house a minute later. He turned to each of my parents in turn and thanked them for there generosity. They I turn wished him the best of luck and said that he was welcome to return.

The lump in my throat grew.

He jumped into the back of the truck and took his seat next to Bates.

He was looking at me the whole time after that.

Even as the truck drove away I managed to mouth _'I love you Tom Branson.'_

I saw a tear run down his cheek just as one ran down mine.

It landed on the face of the pin I had clasped tightly in my hand, which I rose and pressed against my lips as the truck vanished from sight.

~oOo~

**Ok first off, I'm sooooo sorry for not up dating quickly but I hope that this long chapter help earn some forgiveness. Secondly I would just like to point out that the meanings of the flowers are that the Blue Iris symbolises Stability, Security and Tranquillity. The Yellow Iris symbolises Faith, Hope and Passion. I thought that they relate to the situation quite well. **

**XX Big Hugs Xx**


	10. An Appetite for Disaster

**Chapter 10 **

**5****th**** September 1914 **

**Sybil's POV**

It had been a week and there was still no word from Branson. I knew that it was unlikely that I would have heard from him before now, what with the dramatic increase in the number of letters been sent recently. But there was still a small part of me that foolishly hoped that I would find an envelope addressed to 'Lady Sybil Crawley of Downton Abbey' in a slightly untidy fashion, hidden amongst the many others that arrived each morning. And each morning, I would awaken slightly earlier then the rest of my family. Each morning, I would visit Mrs Hughes and collect the small pile of post.

And each morning, I would give a disappointed sigh when I reached the bottom of the pile with no slightly untidy addressed envelope in sight.

This evening we were to attend a ball which Granny and Mama had organised, in a large hall in Manchester. Granny had given her reason of 'growing tiered of seeing everyone so melancholy about this god-forsaken war'. however the fact that talk of this ball had started mere days after Mary had declared that she was not going to marry Matthew, made me think that 'cheering everyone up' wasn't the sole reason for Mama's enthusiasm.

Only for the first ball of my season, had I seen her this fussy.

"Edith, dear, why don't you try the red ones on. Have you chosen your shoes, Sybil darling? Just give your cheeks a little pinch, my dear. Oh, I think we can manage one more feather in there." I would have found her fussing more irritating if I didn't feel so sorry for Mary. For every comment Edith and I received, poor Mary got three more.

This made me think that my suspicions about Mama's motives for this ball were correct. Just as I was admiring Mary's self control for not forcibly removing Mama from the building, it occurred to me that she may have the same motive. For she did not complain once.

A first I'm sure.

Mama's fussing had continued right up until the last second before we entered the ball. I soon as we crossed the threshold I spied the drinks table and made a beeline toward it, in an attempt to escape.

I had managed to remain unaccompanied for a rather impressive five minutes before the small orchestra started up a new tune. At that moment my attention was caught by Henry Gray, who was watching me from halfway across the room. He smiled and I began to make my way over to him just when he was blocked out of view by a smaller gentleman, about half a head taller then myself and slightly balding, who looked vaguely familiar .

"Lady Th-ybil," he drawled, a hint of a lisp in his voice refreshing my memory. "what a pleasure to see you again."

"The pleasure is mine Mr…Torrington. I hope you have been well?" Mr Torrington was one of the many gentlemen I made acquaintance with during my season. Just like many of the others he was not someone with whom I was too keen to spend time with.

However before I knew it I had been escorted on to the dance floor - I hadn't the heart to decline his offer - with only a quick apologetic glance at Henry Gray. Who, much to my annoyance, seemed rather amused at my predicament.

Before to long it was not only Mr Torrington who forced their company on me, but most of the other gentlemen I had met during the season. Most of whom had trodden on my feet so often it amazed me that they possessed enough coordination to place one foot in front of the other as they left my side.

There were some advantages to almost constantly twirling around the room. One of those is that it provided a rather nice place to observe Mary and Matthews very amusing behaviour. For even though she had spent a good portion of the afternoon fussing about her appearance, Mary looked as though she was trying to avoid all contact with Matthew one minute and then not take her eyes of him the next.

As for Matthew he seemed to be conducting the same behaviour. Whenever their glances crossed paths Mary would make a very obvious, overly loud laugh, leaving the person who she happened to be talking to looking politely confused.

As I turned once again, I spotted Edith talking to Sir Anthony. Again. No surprises there.

Another turn, accompanied by a well hidden wince as my right foot is crushed under the foot of the gentlemen I'm currently in the company of, who's name escapes me.

Much to my - and my feet - relief the music stopped and I quickly left the floor, my target either the drinks table or Mary. I had not got very far before I heard the words: "Ah, Lady Sybil." I gave the tiniest sigh before turning around with a large smile. Only to find myself face to face with Francis Gray.

"Oh, Mr Gray," my smile faltering slightly, I prayed he didn't notice. I don't know what it was but something about this man just made me feel uneasy. "You gave me quiet a start." I added trying to regain some composure.

He gave a crooked smile with a odd look in his steely eyes. "My apologies. Let me make it up to you." he extended his arm, "Would you do me the honour of a dance?" I nodded in response and tentatively took his arm. Any excuse to not have to look in his eyes.

Apart from their looks, he and his brother could not be more different. Whilst Henry's gaze was comforting and warm Francis' on the other hand was cold and gave you the feeling that he was looking straight into your soul, and not in the nice way. It was rather unnerving.

The dance was a waltz, which required us to be in hold for a large part of it. Not a prospect I was too thrilled about.

We had barely been on the floor a minute before I heard his voice in my ear.

"You look lovely tonight." I could feel his breath on my neck and it made me shiver.

"Why thank you, Mr Grey." I said, with a forced smile.

"You're receiving a lot of attention tonight, I noticed." I maintained my rather weak smile. "I'm sure the chauffer would be quite jealous if he were present."

I froze. Stock still in the middle of the dance floor, eyes wide staring into his which were dancing with amusement. He pulled me to the right and I came to my senses.

"What ever do you mean by that?" I said, trying to laugh, praying that I had misunderstood him and that really he knew nothing at all. However it was clear in his eyes that he did know and I was not mistaken.

"Oh please Lady Sybil, we both know _exactly_ what I mean." he sneered as we entered another twirl. "you're an intelligent young woman and so I will not insult you by beating around the bush. I saw you and the chauffer in the garage the other day. Such a sweet scene, I almost felt for you both. Almost."

I felt sick and it wasn't from the twirling but from a mixture of nerves and surprisingly anger which had raised it's ugly head in the past few minutes.

"Really." I said, stiffly. "I suppose you're going to tell me that you're going to run off to my parents or the newspapers perhaps, unless I do what you want?"

He chuckled, his eyes reflecting his sick amusement. "Oh, you are a bold one aren't you my dear Sybil. But no. I'm not going to do that."

"Your not?"

"Well, not just yet. That is just one of many delicious possibilities and I haven't decided what I'm hungry for just yet."

"So why tell me if you have no objective?"

He leaned in close. "I like to watch you squirm. Not knowing what I'm going to do or when I'm going to do it. Watching you fall to pieces as you try to maintain your composure, knowing that with one call or letter, one person could turn your world upside down." he straightened up at the end of this little speech. "Why do you think I chose to tell you during a Waltz?"

"Because you clearly have some very disturbing issues?" I jested, not giving him the satisfaction of rendering me speechless a second time.

"Clever." he sneered, his smile vanished. "Because you have no where to run. You young ladies are too concerned with appearances to abandon their partner in the middle of a dance. So you are forced to deal with it there and then. It's so much more entertaining this way."

"Oh, you are a clever man aren't you, Mr Grey. You clearly do not know me very well at all, however." I smiled sweetly.

"And why is that?"

"I don't care what people think."

I snatched my hands out of his and rushed off the floor, pushing my way through some rather disgruntled guests, muttering apologies when ever I could.

I spied the door and made a bee line for it. Mama reached out and took hold of my upper arm as I passed. "Sybil, darling what ever is the matter."

"Nothing, Mama. I suddenly felt very faint, I think I need to sit outside a little while." I said, quickly.

"Well, do you want me too -."

"No I'm perfectly fine on my own, thank you, Mama."

"Oh, well if your sure, dear."

"Thank you." I muttered hurriedly and broke away.

I don't recall how I made it on to the balcony, but it was a blessed relief when did.

He knew. Francis Grey knew about Branson and I.

I loathed to admit it to myself but he was right, it was getting to me. Occupying my every thought. Although, I had to give myself some credit, I had only know a matter of minutes. I'm sure I would calm down tomorrow. Just push it from my mind and don't give him the pleasure of watching me 'squirm'.

I could hear footsteps approaching. Could I not have a moment to myself? I spun around. "Mama, I told you I was fi -… fine."

"I'm sorry. Should I leave you be?"

"H-Henry."

~oOo~

**Hi, yes I'm still alive (just). Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this newest chapter and please please please let me know what you think for I feed off reviews. **

**They are my life source. **

** xXBig HugsXx**


	11. We're Not So Different You And I

**Chapter 11**

"I can leave if you want to be alone?" Henry said, half turning back towards the door.

"Oh, no it's fine but you'll miss the dancing that's all." I explained quickly.

Henry shrugged. "There's only one lady I want to dance with tonight." he said as he came and joined me at the edge. I could feel myself blushing slightly as his eyes met mine. "You don't know where your sister is do you?"

"Oh, um.. I…um…" I turned even redder and looked at my feet whilst trying to form an acceptable sentence. I was failing miserably.

His laughter put a stop to my frantic muttering. "Would you do me the honour of this dance, Lady Sybil?" he chuckled, extending his hand.

I smiled, I couldn't help it his eyes were dancing with a mischievous humour and it was infectious. "Of course Mr Gray" I took his hand in my right with the left resting on his shoulder. "There's no music." I noted pulling my eyebrows together.

"Listen closely." he breathed in my ear. We fell silent, swaying slowly as the sound of the orchestra floated up from the ballroom below. "How's Branson finding training?" he asked.

My small smile vanished. I had not heard from Branson yet. I knew that it was unlikely, given he had been there all but a week and a half. It still didn't make it any easier though. "I've not heard anything from him yet." I said whilst attempting a brave smile.

"I'm sorry." he murmured. I noticed that he genuinely meant it.

It was a few minutes until we spoke again. "I'm glad I got to do this." he said, quietly. "My brother and I are leaving in a few days." he said at my questioning glance.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure." he sighed. "I doubt we shall be away for long though. Francis seems to enjoy it here, I haven't seen him this happy in a long while." I'm sure I could hazard a guess as to why.

"Perhaps I could convince Papa to have _you_ up for a shoot." I suggested, careful to put just enough emphasis on 'you'. "I'm sure _you_ would enjoy that."

He smiled down at me. "That would be ideal, Francis loves a good shoot."

"_Really._" I said, rather stiffly. "You're quite inseparable aren't you." I noted, attempting a joking smile which felt like more of a awkward grin. Henry didn't seem to have noticed. He had turned his head to face the door, his brows crossed in concentration. "Henry, what's wron -" I began but was cut off by his finger against my lips and a murmur of 'Shhh'.

I listened also, the music had stopped and there was the clear echo of footsteps approaching. Two sets. I gasped just as Henry took my upper arm and steered me behind a curtain by the doors. He was pressed against the wall and I against him. His left hand remained firmly in place around my arm and his other had slid around my waist.

The approaching footstep's were accompanied by familiar voices and were growing closer.

"Sorry." he muttered. "But I thought it best if we weren't discovered alone. Can you imagine the talk?" I nodded, thinking that this kind of 'talk' would be far better then what his brother could unleash.

At that moment we were joined by the familiar voices. It wasn't until then I realised just how familiar they were.

"Are you going to explain what's going on now?" came Edith's voice with a dash of rare amusement in it. "It's not like you to be so secretive."

"Oh, right. Yes. Of course. I'm sorry." said Anthony Strallen. There was a pause before he continued with slightly more confidence. "Edith, as you know I'm going to be going off to France before to long and it would make me a great deal happier to know that I had you waiting for me when I returned."

There was another pause and then the sound of something scraping against the floor mixed with the sound of Edith's gasp. "Lady Edith Crawley, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Thankfully my own gasp was covered by Edith's squeal of "Yes. Yes of course I will."

It was requiring all of my will power not to just leap out and fling my arms around my sister. I was so happy for her and I couldn't wait to see Mary's face. Whilst I didn't like to get involved in my sisters' spats, they were rather entertaining to watch.

Edith gave a squeal which sounded close to: "I have to tell Mama!" before they both made a hasty exit. We waited until their footsteps had disappeared before emerging from the curtain.

"I can't believe it." I muttered. "Mary will be so annoyed." I laughed looking at Henry, who had a wide smile to match my own. "Everyone always thought she would be the first to get married."

"And what about you?" he asked.

"Me? What about me?"

"Do you not have anyone special in your life?" my smile faltered slightly. "Because if you don't, I would like to be that person. If you would let me?"

He was looking at me with a gaze of such intensity it was difficult to meet it.

I couldn't tell him. Could I even trust him, his brother was threatening to expose me? But Henry was nice and kind, nothing like the 'other one', and he seemed so genuine. I could trust him, just not encourage him.

"I should go and congratulate my sister." I said quietly before cowardly fleeing the balcony.

~oOo~

_26__th__ August 1914. _

_My Dearest Sybil,_

_I hope with all my heart this letter reaches you in good spirits. I have been so busy here I have hardly had time to write and it breaks my heart not to be able to talk to you everyday. _

_I've met with William which raised my mood considerably. That boy remains ever the optimist. If you think that I sound love sick you should hear William, I do not even hold a candle to him. Every evening Mr Bates and myself are treated to speeches on either Daisy or horses. I'm starting to wonder which he loves more? _

_On the other hand, Mr Bates barley speaks of Anna. He keeps a small picture of her in his pocket at all times and looks at it before he sleeps every night. _

_The training is rigorous and I'm left paralysed with exhaustion every evening. Even though my limbs ache and eyes sting, you are the only thing on my mind. _

_I love you, my dearest and I long for the day I see your face in person once more. You are my life. My very reason for existing. The air for my lungs. _

_I love you with all my heart and more. _

_Forever yours,_

_Tom. _

5th November 1914

It had been two weeks since I had received my first letter from Branson and just one since the, very similar, second. I had carefully hidden them underneath my dressing table, reading them over and over every night.

There had also been a letter from Henry which arrived with Branson's second one. He and his brother are helping their father at the army base and so Papa had invited them to stay at Downton. They will be there for the bonfire festivities in the village which where taking place this evening.

~oOo~

I was stood watching the children throw a considerably large guy into the huge bonfire in the middle of the village square. Their cheers could be heard at the back where I was, away from the rest of my family. Well really it was from Edith. Ever since Anthony had go off to the base camp a month ago all she had prattled on about was how much she missed him and how hard it was to be apart.

I had to hand it to Mary who, this morning at breakfast, had threatened to feed her to the hunting dogs if she didn't stop. Even though I praised myself on possessing enough tact _not_ to express my thoughts in front of the entire family, I did envy Mary's ability to do so.

And so here I stood, out of ear shot of my sister as to decrease the chances of following in the footsteps of my eldest.

"Aren't you cold?"

The source of the voice disrupting my solitude came from Henry Gray, who was making his way towards me with two large glasses and a wide smile.

"I don't really get cold." I lied. "Besides, you can see much more from back here." I continued accepting the glass he held out to me. "Thank you."

"I have something else for you." he said reaching into his pocket and producing a single purple pansy. "I know its not much but I didn't think you would appreciate a gigantic bouquet?" he explained placing it behind my ear so gently I'd never have known if I hadn't seen him do it.

"You thought right. Thank you, Henry."

"So did you get Branson's letters?" he asked.

I smiled widely not being able to stop myself. "Yes I did it was such a relief I - … Wait, how do you know about the letters?"

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet before answering. "I _may _have uses some of my contacts in the war office to speed up there delivery." he muttered.

"Henry…I…You…You shouldn't be this good to me. I have nothing to give you back."

"But you're happy right? Getting the letters made you happy?" I nodded. "Then that's all I need. Knowing that I've made you feel like that is the best 'thank you' I could ask for." We were silent for a few minutes staring into the roaring bonfire. "If you still feel guilty…I wouldn't say no to an extra special Christmas gift." he joked.

We were still laughing as the fireworks started to rocket into the night sky. I was staring wide eyed at the display above me but I was still very aware that Henry kept glancing at me through out the show. The finale came with a tremendous crash as a large array of rockets collided with a mess of sparks and bangs. It was then when I felt Henry's figures entwined with mine.

I looked over at Henry but he was staring up at the conclusion of the show. Across by the bonfire I saw Granny nudge Mama and indicate at Henry and I. Quickly I attempted to subtly detach my hand from Henry's before any further assumptions could be made.

"I need another drink." I explained, attempting to hide my half full glass. "I guess I'll see you back at the house?" I asked trying to avoid looking at his eyes and the disappointment swimming in them. He nodded and I left.

~oOo~

I managed to avoid Henry on the way back home by sticking to Mary and Edith like glue.

I entered the Drawing room just behind Papa, who immediately let out an almighty "Francis my dear fellow, you made it at last!"

His replying laugh made my stomach turn rather violently. "Just, Lord Grantham, just. I'm sorry I didn't make it down for the show but I suppose I'll hear all about it soon enough." he glanced at each member of my family, resting on me slightly longer.

It took a good ten minutes for everyone to settle in with drinks and the like. A small selection of sandwiches and other small foods had been laid out on the large desk in the corner as a supper-like meal. Henry and Francis were talking to Papa leaving the women to chat amongst them selves. It was when Francis broke away to the food that I made my move.

"Mr Gray." is what I had planned to say once I reached him but he beat me to it.

"Well, well, well." he sneered. "Once again Lady Sybil, you surprise me."

"In what way?" I asked, mentally kicking myself for responding to him.

"The majority of women I threaten to expose, avoid me like the plague. Let alone engage me themselves." he explained, putting a single triangular sandwich on his plate.

"Yes well, speaking of threats of exposure." I battled on trying to ignore his last comment. "It's been _months_, why haven't you requested anything of me yet? What are you waiting for?"

"Why Sybil, am I getting to you?"

"Of course not." I snapped, a bit louder than intended. "I was just…curious…" I mumbled.

I considered me before answering as if he knew some great secret. "The timing isn't right." he shrugged, popping the sandwich in his mouth.

"And by that you mean it's not when you can gain the most from outing me, I assume."

He smiles his sly smile and swallowed. "I applaud you milady. Apparently we're not as different as I first thought."

"I'm nothing like you!" I spat.

"Oh really? Lets look at the facts shall we?" he said as I tried to transfer a large amount of venom with my eyes as they bore into his. "We're both putting up a persona of people who are happy and content with our lives when really all we want is the excitement of the real world. Face it Sybil, you, like me, crave for that danger, the scandal, the thrill of going against the social boundaries." He pause, when I said nothing he continued. "If you didn't why would you come and talk to me of your own free will? You desire to escape the mundainity of normal life… I suppose that's where the Chauffer comes in, am I right?" I stood staring at him, dumbstruck. "I'll leave you to think that through." he sneered and walked away.

~oOo~

**This chapter's dedicated to btvs who I made a deal that if she wrote her little one shot - Drunk and Favourite Kisses -(which she kindly dedicated to me:3) I would get this chapter done this weekend…so here's me fulfilling my end of the deal!**

**Hope you enjoyed.**

**xXBigHugsXx**


	12. Special Friends

**Chapter 12**

**20****th**** November 1914**

"Is it really necessary for Sybil and I to be dragged along as well?"

"Yes Mary, it is. A wedding is a family event."

"My point exactly. The _wedding_ is a family event, not the planning and preparations for it."

I was walking along behind Mama, Mary and Edith with Granny, who appeared rather entertained by the 'discussion' between her daughter-in-law and eldest grandchild. We had been in Rippon all of half an hour and had made it into one wedding dress fitters shop before Mary had started to complain. Granny and I both agreed that she had lasted longer than we had originally thought.

"Oh for heavens sake, Mary." cried Mama following closely behind Edith as she entered a small but pretty florist shop. "If you're this bothered then you can go and wait in the car."

"Very well." Mary huffed at the closing door. She turned on her heel and came straight at me. "Come on Sybil. Let's go."

"Oh…but…I…Granny…"

Mary ignored my protests as she seized my upper arm and dragged me from Granny's side. "I'll be in charge of reining in your Mother then shall I?" she called back at us in her most irritated tone possible.

My arm wasn't released until we had made it safely, in Mary's opinion, around the corner. "Well what do you suggest we do now?" I asked whilst massaging my arm.

"We'll take the car back to the house. There'll be enough time for…for…oh for the love of-… the new chauffer,"

"Perkins."

"Yes him. To take us back and make it back in time for Mama, Granny and Edith."

"Okay, but I can't see why we can't just stay with them. Maybe wedding things will be nice, she is our sister after all?" I regretted my words almost as soon as they left my mouth.

"Oh please Sybil," Mary laughed harshly. "It's Edith, that's reason enough. You don't think that she wont be waving this marriage business in front of my face at every opportunity?"

"Well you would do the same." I muttered quietly enough for her not to hear.

Apparently she didn't or if she did then she took no notice. "You saw what she was like in that bridal gown shop. Looking over at me like she was the Empress of India…" she prattled on like this for another few streets. Thankfully she didn't require my input so I was able to walk along aimlessly taking in the city like environment around me.

My attention was caught by a gaggle of people gathering around in the market square up ahead. On closer inspection there was a wooden scaffold, which the people swarmed around, with two different groups of smartly dressed men in suits each gathered in a corner whilst one member from each group took centre stage.

There were news boards scattered around the edges of the square reading: _'Should Britain be at War? Hear what your local politicians have to say_ _on November 20__th__ - Rippon Market Place - 12 o'clock._

"Mary, Mary look." I said excitedly, tugging on her sleeve with more force than I had intended putting an abrupt end to her current tangent.

"What!" she replied, understandably irritated by my interruption.

I pointed toward the square.

"It's a debate about the war. Come on lets go and see." I near enough ran to join the crowd, ignoring Mary's protests.

The atmosphere was electric, even at the tail end of the crowd. I stood on my tip toes and craned my neck over the crowd, but I was still to small to see anything more than the bowler hats of the speakers. Thankfully their voices carried far enough over the crowd for me to hear.

"Sybil," Mary had caught up with me, her tone was strict but tinged with uncertainty. "You're not supposed to come to these talks. Think of what Papa would say."

"I don't care. Besides he doesn't have to find out does he?" I replied without looking away from the seemingly floating hats. "You haven't got any paper on you have you?" I asked, struck by a sudden thought.

"Paper? Why would you want paper?"

"To take notes." I said simply, opening my small bag. "I'm sure I had a pen here somewhere….ah ha, here we are." I turned to Mary. "Any luck with the paper?"

"Just a small bit Mama used to list all the shops she wants to visit."

"That'll do."

"Why do you want to take notes?"

I had to think quickly. I could hardly tell her that I had promised Branson I'd keep him updated with everything that was going on politics' related and that I was taking notes of the key points from each side to relay back to him in my next letter.

"Just for future reference." I lied, scribbling away on the tiny rectangular sheet.

Mary was just about to argue back when she was stopped mid-breath by the rather unexpected appearance of Henry.

"Lady Sybil, Lady Mary, how nice to see you." he greeted them with a wide smile, his eyes lingering on me just that bit longer.

"Mr Gray what a surprise to see you here." Mary replied stiffly, attempting to slide in front of his gaze to conceal my political note taking. It was hardly a past time which was looked upon fondly.

"Not as surprised as I am to see you, I can assure you." he leaned around Mary's shoulder ever so slightly. "I was walking on the other side of the street and was sure I saw you and Lady Sybil. Sure enough here you are. I knew of Sybil's interest in politics but wouldn't of guessed you would be also Lady Mary?"

"Oh I'm not in the slightest. I'm just trying to convince Sybil to return to the car. But she will have none of it." Mary said pointedly over her shoulder.

"Well I'm sorry. I guess being stubborn must be a family trait." I shot back at my sister, who's mouth dropped open slightly. "Now if you would excuse me I'm trying to listen."

Henry laughed. "You can't possible understand this sort of talk. It's far to complex for a woman to comprehend surely?"

My face dropped. Of all people I had not expected Henry Gray to think like…like…well like most other people in my area of the world. For some reason I had thought differently of Henry. Maybe it was his open view of politics the evening he first arrived. Clearly that included everyone _but_ women.

I was feeling slightly ill with the anger rapidly building up within me. Henry's face showed that he was aware he had clearly said exactly the wrong thing, and he was now stuttering over his words in a desperate attempt to rectify his comment. I decided to make it easier for him and show some mercy.

"Thank you for your view on the matter Mt Gray. Now if you don't mind, I shall take my leave. That's if my brain can process the complicated combination of breathing and placing my feet one in front of the other."

I gained a small satisfaction at the dumbstruck expression on his face when I pushed past him away from the square.

Mary caught up some minutes later. She had made the wise decision not to utter a word during the entire return journey.

~oOo~

I spent a large part of the afternoon in the garage with my collection of Branson's letters whilst I sat on a wooden box, with his overalls laying over my knees, attempting to compose my own.

When I had returned to my room to fetch the letters I had realised that I did not have the few notes I had taken at the debate. They must have fallen out of my pocket at some point, a rather likely conclusion as the pockets in question where too shallow to be of any practical use. Needless to say, this had done nothing to quell my aggravated mood.

And so, sat on my wooden box, I tried to recall the more prominent points made but all that came to mind were the thoughtless words uttered by Henry. There were nothing I hadn't hear before but for some reason they continued to haunt my thoughts which angered me greatly.

I vented my frustration towards a innocent, unsuspecting oil can by giving it a swift meeting with my right foot. It bounced across the small space and rebounded off the wall.

"Now, now. Don't want to break anything do we?" came a sneer of a voice from the entrance.

I quickly slid both the overalls and the letters off my knee and on to the floor before Francis Gray rounded the corner. "What are you doing here?"

Francis gave a long dramatic sigh and lent against the car bonnet. "I was bored." he said, crumpling his nose a little. "It's so…mundane here in the country. I don't know how you stand it, I really don't." he was gazing around the garage as he spoke. When I gave no reply he continued with new found enthusiasm. "_But,_ then Henry returned and told me the delicious tale of your charming meeting in the town today. Now that did brighten my mood." he looked down at me, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a sneer. I forced my self to meet his gaze and folded my arms and legs in defence. "It would appear he's rather taken with you, he is still in a flutter about it as we speak. Pacing back and forth, worried beyond all else that he has damaged your view of him forever! Oh, how sad!" Francis's hand flew to his chest for dramatic effect.

"I'm sure he'll get over it." I muttered, reaching down to collect my letters so I could make my escape. "He'll have too."

"Oh, but of course." sighed Francis, slapping his thigh with his hand. "You have your little chauffer friend, don't you." his eyes flashed to the letters in my hand. "Poor Henry would be heartbroken if he found out. And what about your parents? Surely your mother has noticed my brothers attachment to you. No doubt she will be planning flower arrangements and picking out plate patterns before to long."

Gathering the letters in my arms, not willing to admit that the tught had crossed my mind on numerous occasions the past few weeks, I looked him straight in the eyes and resorted to a stiff. "Goodbye Mr. Gray." and stalked past him in a similar fashion as I did to his brother hours earlier.

"Aww, no fun Lady Sybil. No fun!" he called at me, but didn't follow.

~oOo~

That evenings dinner only reaffirmed my suspicions concerning my mothers direction of thought. She had placed myself next to Henry and Mary to Francis, who could barely contain his amusement at the seating arrangements.

"Are you alright, Francis?" Papa had asked after Francis had let out a small chuckle upon entering the room.

"Oh, yes, yes just a tickle of the throat." he lied perfectly.

Dinner was rather awkward to say the least. After this afternoons heated exchange, Henry and I only talked to exchange the minimal of formalities. Through out the meal he seemed rather fidgety and unable to remain still in his seat, eventually prompting Granny to ask, quiet seriously, if he wanted permission to leave the table to relieve himself, half way through the second course. This had caused much stifled giggling on mine and my sisters part; Papa snorting wine through his nose and Henry turning a rather brilliant shade of red.

As per usual, after dinner we retreated to the drawing room, where I was joined by Granny. "Sybil, dear, are you quiet well?"

"Perfectly fine Granny, why do you ask?"

"Oh, I was just curious to know if you were ill or just blissfully unaware to the advances of the male kind?" I choked on my drink and looked down at my Grandmother with wide eyes. "Well don't look at me like that my dear, it's a perfectly reasonable question." she patted my back when I continued to cough.

"H-how on earth is that a reasonable question?" I spluttered.

"Well, Henry Gray is fine catch, he's got good connections, from a well respected family…he's certainly not an eye-sore."

"Granny!"

"I'm just saying that he is a fine young man but you seem to be, shall we say _lacking_ in enthusiasm."

"He's a very nice man, Granny." I agreed looking over at Henry, who was chatting away to Papa. "I'm just not sure what I feel at the moment and I wouldn't want to encourage him, or Mama for that matter, until I'm entirely sure."

Granny gave me her signature 'look' usually reserved for cousin Isobel. "Well don't take too long my dear. As I said, he's a good catch, you don't want him to get snapped up by anyone else."

'_Actually Granny I'm hoping that's what will happen.' _I thought as she left to talk to Mama.

~oOo~

Later that evening I was walking back to my room when a familiar voice called my name.

"Sybil! Sybil wait. Please." I turned to see Henry running down the small corridor, a small piece of paper in hand.

"Henry, you shouldn't be here!" I hissed, if Mama or Papa saw them she was doomed, there was no way they wouldn't make her marry him.

"I know, I'm sorry. But I just had to apologise for what I said today. I wasn't thinking, I didn't mean to offend you." he said all this very quickly, without breath. "I just had to let you know that I didn't mean what I said."

I laughed, which surprised myself as well as Henry. "Oh, Henry, if you didn't mean it, then why did you say it?"

"I…Well…I…um…"

"It's ok. I wasn't serious. I forgive you, so can we just forget about it now?"

"Um…Yes, yes of course. Gladly." he smile his wide, warm smile.

"Good. Well then, Goodnight." I turned to leave.

"Oh Sybil, wait, I forgot!"

I sighed and turned back again. "What is it?" I asked sweetly.

"I found this on the floor after you left." he extended his hand with the sheet of paper in it.

"My notes!" I cried snatching them from his hand. "Thank you. They must have fallen out of my pocket after all."

"Yes, they must have. Actually there was something else I need to talk to you about." my smile faltered, but he didn't notice, he was staring at his hands. "You must have notice that I have made my feelings for you quite plain." I nodded slowly. "however you don't seem to respond in the same way." I shifted nervously from foot to foot, averting my eyes when he looked up. "And then this afternoon when I found your notes I couldn't help but think that…you where taking them for Branson weren't you?"

"Yes, I was."

"I though so. Well I started to wonder if the reason you where being rather, _unresponsive_ shall we say, is because you already have a bow…and that maybe that bow is Branson?"

I laughed again. For a long while, until I thought of a suitable response. Henry looked rather confused. "Oh, no, no, no he's not my bow, Henry. We're just _special_ friends. Me and the chauffer, really?"

"_Special Friends?"_

"Yes, like close friends. Really close friends. He's practically family."

"And am I a _special friend _or could I be something more_?"_

At looked at his eyes wide and pleading like a little puppy's. "I'm sorry Henry. But you are only a special friend. Nothing more."

He took a deep breath and drew himself up to full height. "Well then, I can't say I didn't expect as much." he smiled at me again. "I guess I shall just have to put my best efforts into changing that then." he took my hand and kissed it. "Goodnight Sybil." and he turned on his heel, leaving me alone in the narrow hallway.

**Phew. I'm glad this is finally up. The amount of issues I had with this chapter! Anyhoo, it's exam season once more so updating may take a little longer - like this 2weeker- but I shall do my best! **

**Happy Reading. **

**xXBigHugsXx**


	13. Swimming With The Fishes

**Chapter 13**

_9__th__ December 1914_

_Dearest Tom, _

_Ever since your last letter telling of your upcoming leave in the next few weeks, I have found myself desiring your presence with an even greater intensity, that I did not think myself capable of possessing. To know that in a mere two weeks of writing this letter I will be able to see your face with my own eyes makes me happier beyond all belief. _

_I pray that these weeks pass quickly and for your safe journey so we can be together once again. _

_Eternally yours,_

_Sybil. _

**23****rd**** December 1914**

It was fair to say that the entire morning and early afternoon of December 23rd was one of the slowest of my life so far.

I spent the majority of the hours passing time settled in the cosiest window seat in the library with my nose pressed, determinedly in a book, the title of which I hadn't taken notice of but my eyes continually wandered out of the window, scouring for any sign of an approaching military truck.

"_The Complete Compendium of Fresh Water Fishes of the British Isles? _Forgive me Sybil, but you do not seem like the scientific type."

Pulling my nose from the pages and eyes from the drive, I looked around to find Francis Gray leaning smugly against the wide, oak door frame, bent forward slightly with his eyes squinting at the book cover.

"Well, it would appear that you are incorrect for once." I replied stiffly, I had long since given up on ignoring this man for he always seemed to break down my mental barrier almost immediately. "I happen to be rather interested in aquatic life as a matter of fact." I thrust the book in front of my face, blocking his arrogant smirk from view.

"Oh of that I have no doubt." he said, moving from the frame to rest instead on the wall by my window seat, craning his head over the top of the book. "I must admit I have a liking for the subject myself but it has been some time since I have invested my time in it unfortunately. But then, I'm sure you could refresh my memory on a few matters…" Despite myself, I tore my eyes away from the page to meet his teasing gaze. "Such as the most common species Trout? Or perhaps the mating patterns of the Carp?" he jested.

"Of course I can!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. Regretting the act instantaneously at the sight of his mouth curling up along with his left eyebrow.

"Then please, enlighten me."

I fixed him with a stony gaze before snapping the book closed and placing it on my lap. "The most common Trout is... the Brown Trout." I suggested confidently, trying to make it sound as though I knew what I was on about. Francis' face didn't move, he just continued to stare at me. For some reason this unnerved me even more than usual and suddenly, I found my self tongue tied. "And the Carp… the Carp…" '_Damn' _I swore to myself, averting my eyes from his growing victorious grin.

"I applaud your performance Sybil. For a moment there you had me thinking you actually knew the answer."

"And I'm sure you do naturally? Or was that all an act to make me look like a fool?"

Francis scoffed. "Oh, it was an act for sure. However, I do happen to know the answer as a matter of fact." he paused momentarily clearly waiting for some kind of encouragement that I did not give. "The Rainbow Trout. That's the most common, if I'm not mistaken."

"That's what I'm betting on." I said, pulling the book open to the index to find the answer, desperate to gain one victory over the bane of my existence.

The bane in question merely chuckled darkly, pushed himself off the wall and wandered over to the door. "Oh, Sybil you shouldn't worry about giving yourself away tonight. I'm sure if you use those acting skills of yours your family wont suspect anything." he called before he reached the door. "But, I would suggest caution. If I were you I would get to close with your little lover. You never know who will be around. And it would be a disaster if someone were to find out before I could tell them, wouldn't it…" and he left without another word.

**~oOo~ **

It was 4pm by the time the truck arrived bringing William, Bates and Branson back to Downton. The night had just begun to set in, casting a hazy blue sky, patterned with strokes of lilac and a slight tinge of orange across the west horizon.

Family and staff alike had all gathered outside to welcome the trio back. I looked across at the staff line and noticed how Anna was fidgeting constantly, her fingers playing with the cuff of her sleeves. Her hands smoothing down her hair, tucking it behind her ears. I reached up to my own hair and brushed the cool, smooth face of the iris pin Branson had given me the day he left. The act calmed me slightly as if by touching the pin I was that little bit closer to Branson.

"You're shaking." came a concerned voice in my ear. I turned my head to face Henry. "Would you like me to fetch your coat?" he asked, his brow creasing slightly.

"No, no. don't trouble yourself." I insisted. "I'm not even cold, it must be the anxiousness. I haven't seem them for a long time after all."

Henry didn't look convinced but he inclined his head before looking toward the gate. "Well, it looks like you don't have to wait much longer. They're here."

Sure enough the bobbing lights of the truck could be seen weaving their way along the gravel path toward the house. My heart quickened with every passing second and it became increasingly harder to maintain an acceptable expression of mild happiness, like that of my family. Where as inside it was ready to burst out from me at the prospect of laying my eyes upon Branson for the first time in months in a matter of seconds.

The truck came to a steady stop and before the driver had even begun to stop the engine, William came flying out of the back and ran toward Daisy, scooping her upper body up and spinning her so the small girls legs splayed out behind her. The poor girl looked like a rabbit caught in head lamps. There was a chorus of chuckles and a few maids and even Mama went 'Awww'. Only Mr Carson muttered disapprovingly.

I have no doubt that I would have been one of them if I was not so fixed upon the truck. Frustratingly, from where I was stood the only thing that could be seen of the occupants were their feet as they landed on the driveway. It was at this point under the truck were my sight was centred. Shortly after William had scooped up his sweetheart, a pair of boots had emerged. My heart quickened even more and I took a small intake of breath. Instead of moving to the welcome party, the owner of the boots turned back toward the truck and paused until a cane joined them on the ground followed by a second pair of boots. It was then that Mr Bates appeared to the group, clutching on to the other man's shoulder briefly for support, hiding his companions face in the process.

But I knew, I could feel that it was him. In my soul I knew that Branson had come home. His eyes met mine the moment Bates went to embrace Anna. They didn't even need to search the crowed. Like me, he could tell where I was without looking.

He looked different in his army gear, I decided as he approached Papa to exchange formalities. I was unsure if it made me proud or scared. Proud that he was fighting for this country. Scared because seeing him like this made it seem all the more real, that it was really happening.

He was soon joined by Bates and William. Only then did I realise how he had become bigger. His shoulder's seemed broader and his arms wider. He looked the part of a soldier. Papa grasped each of their hands warmly and greeted them as though they were family. "I insist you all join us for dinner tonight." he declared letting William go. Once again Branson's eyes found mine and it took all of my combined will power and physical strength not to fling myself at him that very moment.

It was right now, at times like this, that I truly envied Anna and Daisy, who had the freedom to express their feelings openly for all to see. Suddenly I felt rather sad and all I wanted was to be with Branson right now, in front of everyone, to put an end to this little game. Consequences be damned.

The party had just started to make its way back into the house. Branson was a few feet ahead of me, all I had to do was reach out and throw my arms around him like Anna did with Bates. I do that and the pretending is over, no more hiding, it's not worth it. He is leaving in for France in the next few weeks, leaving me in the next few days, we need all the time we can get.

I find my arms begin to reach out ever so slightly, in silent agreement with my thoughts. Closer and closer.

"Sybil, are you alright?"

The sound of my name, brought me back to my senses and I turned to Henry, who, now I think about it, hadn't looked alright himself all day. "Of course. Couldn't be happier." I replied with a smile, trying not to look at Francis' very amused expression over Henry's shoulder. "I'm almost dying of hunger though, I do hope we have dinner soon." I lied, drawing in my outstretched arms in to pat my stomach.

My fake prayers for food were answered in the coming hours as we all made our way to the dining room.

I still hadn't even managed to utter a word to Branson but in the passing hours I had come up with a plan to change that.

**~oOo~**

The corridor was deserted as I made my way to my room after dinner. It had been a rather bizarre affair to say the least, I had been placed next to Henry, as per usual, but then there was Branson almost directly opposite. Francis was behaving as though it was Christmas, Easter and his birthday all in one. The man seemed intent of trying his best to make either Branson or myself slip up and reveal ourselves.

"So, Branson, do you have a sweetheart?" he had asked slyly over the top of his wine glass. I froze mid bite and glanced anxiously over the table. Also, I noticed that like me, Henry had paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and was also paying particular attention to the convocation which was unfolding.

"Um, yes I do actually." said Branson with a smile, after a brief surprised pause.

I was half expecting my fork to fall out of my hand and land on my plate with a clatter. That was not the answer I was expecting, apparently Francis wasn't either. The mischievous glint in his eye had momentarily vanished. "Oh, really. What is she like?" he pressed on.

"She's the most amazing woman I've ever met." Branson replied, quietly. His eyes flickered to me. "I love her with all my soul and I can no longer imagine a life without her in it."

I could feel my eyes brimming with tears which I caught before they fell. "She sounds like a very lucky girl." I said my voice cracking a little. "And I'm sure she feels the same. It must hurt terribly to be away from each other so long?"

"With every fibre of my being Milady." he said solemnly, meeting and holding my gaze over the table.

It was only when Henry suddenly coughed beside me that a realised the whole table had become silent, observing the exchanges with curiosity.

"Well, shall we move into the Drawing room for a drink if everyone is finished?" Papa called from the head of the table after a few seconds of silence.

There was a scuffle of chairs and, in the muddle of bodies in the path to the door, I took my chance. Producing the small, folded paper from my pocket I slipped it into Branson's hand, feeling him squeeze my figures in response.

I was saddened when the time came to pull away but the former staff had requested to visit their friends in the servants quarters instead, and so we broke away.

I had managed to leave my families company quickly feigning tiredness and escaping to my room.

He arrived quicker than I expected. I could only have been waiting a few minutes when I heard the door open and close behind me. The lights were off as I didn't want the brightness spilling from under my door and giving us away. I had my back to the door and was leaning against the bed post so I didn't see him enter. Due to his obvious, intense need to remain as quiet as possible, I didn't turn around at the sound of the door closing, letting him play his little game.

As his hands fell over my eyes I smiled. Excitement buzzed throughout my whole body and when he began to speak it took over. Impatiently, I spun around and kissed him before he could even get the first word out.

The time for talking would come later. Right now all I wanted was to show him how much I missed him.

He was hesitant at first but when I ran my hands over his shoulders and up through his hair, which seemed to have grown longer in the passed months, he responded with much greater enthusiasm. Taking my face in his hands he kissed me back with such fervour that my back was pressed against the bed post, making it creek slightly under the new pressure.

I ran my hands down his front, surprised at the lack of obstacles which usually adorned a military jacket. This one was smooth and not as rough as I would have expected. But all further thought was put out of my mind as his hands began to explore my hair.

He hadn't even got as far as to remove the pin when the door suddenly opened, casting a long beam of light over the room.

I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't frozen in place and pulled away. When he did I opened my eyes immediately as his lips left mine only to find that the light revealed not Branson in my arms, but Henry.

Seeing the shock on my face Henry stepped back to leave me with a full view of the door and Branson stood, stock still, in the frame.

"Tom…I…I…" I breathed but further words escaped me.

Unlike me Branson said nothing as he took a few steps into the room. His hand releasing the door handle he had been clutching so tightly.

He wasn't looking at me but at Henry who, it should be noted, didn't even attempt to protect himself when Branson's fist drew back and made contact with his left eye.

Henry went tumbling down on to my bed and Branson left the room, I followed.

"Tom! Tom, wait please, let me explain!"

"Not now Sybil." his voice was emotionless, so empty. I think it would have been better if he had shouted.

"But, it's not what you think. I thought… I thought he was you… I had no idea, really!" I pleaded running after him. "Tom, please listen."

He stopped so suddenly I nearly ran into him. "I believe you Sybil." he muttered, still not looking at me. "I just… I just need some time. Alone."

He carried on a few paces and I didn't follow as he requested. Reaching the corner to descend the stairs he paused and looked back at me. His momentary gaze stung more than a thousand knives to the heart and as he vanished from sight I crumpled to the ground but I didn't cry.

I was beyond the need for tears.

**~oOo~**

**Hello lovely people. I hope you enjoyed the latest installment :) I would love to know what you think so far, so please please please drop thought or two in the review section, if you would be so kind :)**

**xXBigHugsXx**


	14. Resuscitation

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to the amazing btvs for making a brilliant trailer for this fic (the link to which can be found on my profile page) and for just generally being a class human being! Thanks hun, much love to you! **

**Chapter 14**

I returned to my room to find that Henry had returned to his feet and was nursing his left cheek bone. He looked up when I entered and started towards me. "Sybil, I-" was all he managed to get out before I had raised my hand and slapped him a little harder than intended. The sound of the blow seemed to linger in the moment of silence that followed.

"Can't say I didn't deserve that." He half laughed, darkly to himself.

"Why?" I asked. "You knew that I though it was Branson. So why did you do that to him? To me?"

"Believe me it was not my intention." Henry pleaded. "I had only meant to talk. Nothing more, I swear." He sank down on my bed, his hands clasped together, looking at the floor. "Truthfully, I had actually wanted to ask about you and Branson."

Oddly, I found myself surprised by the last comment. He had had the entire day to ask anything he wanted so why now?

"Do you remember when I asked about the two of you, if you where something more than friends?" I nodded. "I wanted to believe you, I really did but something inside me just had that little bit of doubt, that there _was_ something and you just weren't telling me." He looked up at me with eyes wide and questioning. There was something almost childlike about him as I stood looking down at the young man who was at a loss for answers.

"But why now? Why tonight? Couldn't you have waited just that little bit longer?"

"Under normal circumstances I probably would have done." Henry said. "But that little bit of doubt was lingering, growing stronger and stronger all day."

"How? It tried to act normal around him, to not give anything away." I was panicked, if Henry had noticed then who else might have? The panic must have show on my face as Henry was quick to reassure me.

"Don't worry Sybil, you secret is still safe." _Not as safe as you think._ I thought as Francis' face flashed before my eyes. "You played your part very convincingly." he continued. "It's just that, I couldn't help but ask myself: If you and Branson really were just good friends, you would think nothing of talking to him in front of your family. But you seemed distant and reserved which caused me to wonder if their really was nothing more than a good friendship. Turns out I was right."

Silence followed is little speech and neither of us looked at the other but became momentarily fascinated with the pattern on the carpet.

I sighed. "Well, that was some excellent detective work there Mr Gray, perhaps you should consider a career in the police force rather than the army?" Henry gave a small smile but remained silent. I took a seat beside him on the bed, he acknowledged with a flicker of his eyes. "So, that's what you came to ask me about. And then I…." I felt my cheeks flush and was suddenly thankful he had not turned the lights on. "Well, I don't think I need to bring that up again." I muttered to my lap.

"I know I shouldn't have done it but I couldn't help myself." he admitted. "But I'm not going to apologise for it… Loving someone is something you should never be sorry about."

I hesitated. "Wait, Henry are you saying that-"

"I love you. Yes."

"Oh… Henry I'm flattered, truly, but Branson will forever be the only one in my heart and that will never change."

"That may be true." he sighed, rising from the bed and walking towards the door. "But Branson may not be around forever." he murmured before closing the door behind him, casing the room into total darkness.

**~oOo~**

**December 25****th**** 1914**

It was Christmas morning and the entire family had gathered in the library with a large collection of gifts to hand out.

The ease and calmness of the atmosphere allowed me to relax slightly and enjoy the moment with my family. But the image of Branson disappearing down the stairs continued to haunt me, as it had all night.

I tried to immerse myself in the festivities as much as possible but nothing was maintaining my attention for long enough. We were taking it in turns to hand out our gifts, as we did every year, so far I had accumulated a writing set, two pairs of shoes and a rather lovely set of emerald earrings.

Now, Henry stepped up to Mary, Edith and I, and presented each of us in turn with a gift. Mary was first, she opened her small box to reveal a delicate brooch with a face of mother of pearl. Edith then received a copy of the latest novel of the author she had recently become addicted to, they changed so often I hardly bother to take note anymore.

Henry then turned to me and presented a large rectangular box to me. It's weight surprised me when I took it from him, heightening my curiosity. I untied the red ribbon tentatively and opened the box.

"Oh My." Mama breathed from behind me. Mary and Edith's mouths dropped and Francis let out a long, low whistle.

Inside the box lay a beautiful necklace adorned with a countless amount of diamonds all glittering from the many lights around the room. Never had I seen a more elaborate piece of jewellery which still had an aspect of delicateness surrounding it.

"Do you like it?" Henry asked making me suddenly aware that I had been silent for a long while.

"It's stunning." I breathed, running my fingers alone the identically cut stones, my eyes wide in awe.

"You must wear it tonight, Sybil dear." Mama said, her eyes fixed on the box and it's contents.

"Oh, but it's far to grand for a dinner, Mama!"

"Nonsense, it's Christmas. You're aloud to be grand."

"Very well then. Thank you Henry, it's a lovely gift." I said smiling my best smile.

**~oOo~**

That afternoon I excused myself to walk to the garage in an attempt to seek out Branson.

Sure enough he was there, well his legs were in any case. He was lying in the front seat of the car with his legs splayed out over the sides.

"May I come in?" at the sound of my voice he jumped and lifted his head up to look around.

"I suppose so." he replied before setting his head back down.

I walked over and lent on the side of the car. "You're still angry then?"

He paused before answering. "No. no I'm not angry…. I'm just thinking."

"What about?"

"You. Me… Us." he sat up again and swivelled round to open the door and slide out to join me. Sliding a hand around the side of my face and entwining his fingers in my hair, he pulled me towards him and kissed me gently.

"I really didn't know. Honestly I didn't." I breathed, resting my head on his shoulders.

"I know, I believe you, of that I have no doubt."

"Then what's troubling you, I know there is something?"

Branson buried his head into the side of my neck, breathing deeply. "Last night just… seeing the two of you made me realise the social gap between us. Made me wonder if I really was the best choice for you, for your happiness."

"What are you talking about." I laughed, pulling away and brushing my fingers along his jaw line. "You've always said that things like class don't matter. That it's the person not the title which is important. It has never mattered to us and it never will do, when you return I will tell Mama and Papa that I love you and there is nothing that they can do about it."

Branson smiled and kissed my forehead. "They could make you marry that Mr Gray. He has money and social standing, they would see him as better for you and perhaps they are right."

"Stop it. You is what is best for me! You know money and standing don't matter to me. What's best is that I am with someone whom I love and who loves me in return. No matter what our backgrounds may be."

"And _that_ my dear Sybil, is why I love you." Branson smiled devilishly as he leaned in again, pressing me up against the car and taking my lips in his.

**~oOo~**

That evening, when we had finished our evening meal, we had all gathered, per usual, in the Drawing room for extra drinks and games. I was ordained, as promised, in the lavish necklace Henry had given me and I tried to ignore the fact that when I was wearing it I felt almost like royalty.

Ordinarily this would have been a much more enjoyable affair if Henry was not following me around like a lost puppy. He was being perfectly pleasant but it was making me crave the company of other human beings. Unfortunately, after his rather bold declaration of his preference for me over my sisters, the rest of the family had joined the same wave length of Mama and Granny and were 'doing us the favour' of not interrupting.

A clear sign that I was becoming tiresome of Henry's company after three hours was that when his slimy excuse of a brother came and joined us, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"Enjoying ourselves you two?" Francis asked, his sly smile forming on his lips.

"Indeed, although I am terribly thirsty. Henry would you be a dear and fetch me another drink?" I asked sweetly, trying not to laugh at the murderous looks Henry was giving his brother for his interruption.

"Of course, it would be my pleasure." he said stiffly through a forced smile.

"I'd wager that you never thought you would see the day when you'd desire my company." laughed Francis, once Henry was out of ear shot. "Not that I blame you of course, he is clinging to you like a lost child."

"He has certainly become more brash in his actions since last night." I agreed not realising what I said before it was too late.

"Last night?" Francis drawled "What on earth happened. Do tell." I looked him solidly in the eye and remained silent. "My imagination is going mad, what ever it is I'm sure it cannot be that crippling?"

"He found out about Branson and I." I admitted. He didn't need to know how, I could keep some self worth. "I assumed he would have told you."

"Alas, I was unaware until this very minute. You over estimate the strength of our sibling bond, my dear Sybil." he took a sip of his drink, observing Henry over the rim who had been caught by Edith and looked slightly flustered by the situation. "I wouldn't worry your pretty little head, your secret is safe with him. I'd expect he would want to protect your honour, you can trust him. Unlike myself of course." he flashed a teasing grin.

"Oh, I don't know about that. It's not like you have told anyone yet is it?" I realised it was a rather stupid and reckless thing to say to a man who had the potential to make your life a crumbling wreck, but I was some what curious as to why he hadn't.

Francis merely shrugged. "People have started to find out on their own, all I need to do now is sit back and watch the show." he took another swig of wine, emptying the glass. "But that doesn't mean I wont do something if things start to quiet down. If there is one thing I hate, it's an interval."

**~oOo~**

**Thank you all for the lovely comments, reading them truly makes my day. So please carry on! I'll even throw in a cherry or two.**


	15. The Birth of the 'Nodding Foot'

**Chapter 15**

**26****th**** December 1914**

"When does the truck arrive?"

"Tomorrow morning at 9 o'clock."

"Must they leave so soon after Christmas, we still have a shoot for New Years." Edith moped, crossing her legs in the armchair.

"They have no choice. They are soldiers now and have a war to fight, not sitting around in dinner jackets sipping wine." Papa explained.

Anthony Strallen leaned forward and took Edith's hand. He had arrived in the evening of Christmas day, bringing with him 4 letters: One each for Branson, William, Francis and Henry. They had instructed them to return to either the Command base or the Training camp.

Branson and William were to be sent straight off to France as over the past few weeks the war had taken a slight turn for the worse and the Generals wanted more and more troops to be sent out to replace numbers. Sir Anthony was to accompany them.

As for Henry and Francis, they were to head back to the Command base to assist their Father. Neither were overjoyed but Francis said that it was a good excuse to get out to the city for a change of scene.

"Don't worry, my dear." said Sir Anthony, reassuringly to Edith. "I shall not be gone long and we will be married upon my return instead, yes?"

Edith nodded with a weak smile. The wedding had been originally planned for the New Year, but now things had to change.

I rose from the seat next to Papa and announced that I was going to take a walk around the grounds. This I did, in truth, but only very briefly and only the section of the ground which led to the Chauffer's Cottage. Papa had seen no reason why William and Bates could stay in their own small room's and Branson not in the Cottage.

When I arrived I found him packing up the little things he had brought with him in a small army satchel, all his belongings were laid out neatly over the bed in organised piles.

"Someone's been busy." I teased, dancing over and slipping an arm around his waist and a kiss on his lips. "Need any help?"

"I feel like I'm missing something?" he said, placing his arm over my shoulders, his expression one of confusion as he glanced over his little possessions. "Can't put my finger on it though."

"Well, maybe you just need a little distracting to take your mind off it for a little while." my hands snaked around his front as I spoke, my fingers wrapping around his braces and I pulled him down suddenly, crushing my lips to his.

"Or perhaps a very long while." he breathed, "I'm really having trouble remembering after all…"

I laughed as Branson leaned in again, flinging my arms around his neck he picked me up and carried me into the Living room, both of us laughing through the kiss.

**~oOo~**

**27****th**** December 1914**

I spent the majority of the day in the Cottage with Branson as it would have been our last chance to really be together until his departure the next morning.

Once again he and William were asked to join us at Dinner that evening as a send off event for the five of them. Edith was fawning all over Sir Anthony, which was bordering on nauseating to watch.

The truck arrived at 9 o'clock on the dot, as only an army vehicle would. As when they had arrived, the entire family and staff were present to see them off. Anna and Daisy said goodbye to Bates and William whilst Branson stood dutifully beside Sir Anthony and the truck.

Whilst the exchange between the two couples took place, I could feel Henry's gaze watching my every move.

Before it was their turn to leave, he and Francis said their goodbyes to the family.

"If I write to you, will you write back?" he asked, in hushed tones, pleading with his eyes.

"Of course I will. How could you think I wouldn't?"

He gave a relieved smile, flashing his teeth at the floor. "I would have continued to write even if you didn't." he admitted.

"Will you write to me also?" Francis chirped up, the mischievous glint back in his eye. "I'll get ever so lonely." he pouted jokingly.

"We shall see." I replied, swiftly.

"That's a 'yes' then!" Francis teased giving a crooked grin.

"You assume too much Mr Gray." I teased in return.

Francis made an exaggerated shrug. "I'm usually right though." he clapped Henry on the back, "Come on, Brother or we'll be late."

Henry turned back to me, taking my hands and kissing them briefly. "I shall miss you, Sybil. Look after yourself until we meet again."

As the truck sped away down the drive, Edith let out a loud sob and, with an amount of drama usually accustomed to Mary, produced a fancy handkerchief with which she dabbed her eyes repeatedly and often for the next few hours.

**~oOo~**

**2****nd**** January 1915**

Edith's condition of being grief stricken continued for the next few days.

"Oh, for heavens sake it's as if he had died!" Mary hissed one afternoon to me when Mama, Granny and Edith were out of earshot. "It's a shame that he had to leave don't get me wrong… but for heaven's sake."

We where sat together on the chairs on the other side of the Drawing room to Edith, who was been molly-coddled by Mama, watching our sister with piercing looks.

I prided myself on being a rather patient, level-headed person for most of the time but the past few days had stretched me to my limit. I had even started to develop a 'nodding-foot' whenever I observed Edith in her emotional state, a condition where I contained my frustration by moving my foot up and down when my legs were crossed.

"It has become rather tiresome, hasn't it." I agreed.

I soon found that as well as loosing my patients with my sister, I had started to become rather bitter. On more than one occasion I can recall thinking that Edith had nothing to complain about for she had only had to say goodbye once _and_ she had the comfort and support of her family to confide in.

Whereas I on the other hand, had bid farewell to the man I love _twice_ in a matter of months and was forced to remain calm and composed around her family, whilst crying myself to sleep, alone, the night I received a letter from him.

However one of the first letters which arrived for me in the new year was not from Branson but Henry.

_December 30__th__ 1914 _

_Dearest Sybil, _

_I understand if, upon opening this letter, you are disappointed, and for that I humbly apologises. _

_I admit that I have nothing to write to you about which is of great importance or interest to you. I write to you for the soul purpose of wishing you a very Happy New Year and also, to tell you that I dearly regret not being there at Downton with you and your family to celebrate with you. _

_I hope the next time I write I will have more to say, but for now I will leave you with this. I hope you are well and that Edith is not suffering to greatly. _

_Until we meet again, _

_Yours, _

_Henry _

_P.s, Francis sends his regards. _

_January 4__th__ 1915_

_**~oOo~**  
_

_My Love, _

_Tomorrow we set off on the Channel crossing to France. I do not know when I will get the opportunity to write to you again, but I will do so at any opportunity. _

_I have been recruited into the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, the 86__th__ brigade of the 29__th__ division. I am saddened to be separated from William but I admit it is nice to once again be amongst fellow countrymen. _

_The word is we are to be send down through France to Gallipoli, a small island off the coast of Turkey. I fear this will only make receiving letters more difficult but it is something we shall have to overcome together. _

_Remember that I love you and treasure you and the love you have blessed me with. Of what I have done to deserve it, I cannot imagine but thankful I am all the same._

_Forever yours,_

_Branson_

It was on January the 9th when I received this letter. My heart swelled with pride when I read it and the fear and worry came later.

The same day saw the arrival of another letter from Henry to Papa, wishing the entire family a Happy New Year. As I was still dwelling on Branson's letter I must have looked rather sad and melancholic, for Mama felt the need to comfort me.

"Now, now, Sybil dear, you mustn't look so down. I'm sure Henry will be back again before too long." she cooed, taking a seat beside me and holding me in her arms, whilst stroking my head gently.

"I don't miss him." I nearly snapped at her.

"It's alright, you can tell me. It's not good to keep things to yourself, especially things like this."

"There is nothing to keep Mama, I do not miss Henry." I pushed myself away from her, trying not to look at the hurt on her face.

"Sybil, do not talk in that tone to your Mother, she is only trying to help." Papa said, unusually stern.

Angrily, I shot to my feet. "You don't understand do you, any of you! I don't need this kind of help." I cried, waving my hands around like a mad-woman.

"But Sybil if you just talk about it then-"

"I can't! could you all just please, stop trying to help me!"

I ran from the room, before I revealed my secret to the whole family.

I retreated to my room and headed strait for my dressing table, running my hands underneath to located all of Branson's letters which I kept there.

I sat and read through each one, as I did when upset or stressed, until there was a knock on the door. I didn't reply.

"Sybil, it's Mary. Can I come in?"

"Yes." I called, hastily shoving the letters back under the desk, just as Mary came around the door.

"Are you alright? I've never seen you so worked up?" she asked, walking to me and placing her hands on my shoulders comfortingly.

"I'm fine, just a little stressed."

"More than a little, I'd say." Mary laughed, starting to untie my hair and run her fingers through it. "So… are you going to tell me what is wrong or do I have to force it out of you." she teased, brandishing the hairbrush threateningly.

"There is nothing to tell." I said, feeling slightly better than before. "I just got a bit worked up about Edith I suppose."

Mary regarded me in the mirror. "Somehow I'm not convinced." she said, running the brush through my hair a few times before catching her hand on the chair and dropping it. "Shoot, Anna makes it look so easy." she laughed bending down to pick it up. It had rolled under the dressing table which Mary knocked with her shoulder, reaching under.

I wasn't paying much attention until I heard the sound of many sheets of paper hitting the carpet. "Oh, what is this?" Mary teased, from under the table, abandoning the brush and gathering the letters instead.

"Mary, no! Please don't read them!"

But I was too late. Mary danced out of reach before I had so much as made a grab for the letters, all I could to was watch my sister's face turn from amusement to confusion and shock as her eyes raced along the pages.

"Sybil what have you been _doing?"_

**~oOo~**

**Hello lovely people who read my fics :D I'm sorry this one is a bit late, I've been having issues with life and other intrusive things but here it is at last! **

**Hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading.**

**xxx**


End file.
